Me: Just letting you know that CDG is coming over soon.
The Roomie: Oh cool. I had a text from a strange number earlier asking me to go for coffee if I was around. I think it might be that stalker guy.
Me: Oh really? How do you know?
The Roomie: Well I don’t – I didn’t reply – but it was written in the way he normally writes texts.
Me: *brushing teeth* Hmmm, well you lost a lot of number when your phone got stolen so it might be someone you actually like. Oh like that guy you went out with that time! You should reply.
The Roomie: No, because if it’s Stalker Guy, I’ve refused to answer his texts for the last six months, and if it is him, he’ll kick it all off again!
Me: But if it’s Date Guy, then you might put him off.
The Roomie: Hmmmm….
Me: Why don’t you ring the number off my phone and see if you recognise the voice?
The Roomie: No, because if it’s him, he might recognise my voice!
Me: But you’re ringing off a strange number, so it wouldn’t even occur to him that it would be you.
The Roomie: I don’t know…oh wait! Isn’t there that thing where you put a number into the phone number while you’re dialing and then you go straight through to voicemail!?
Me: *shrugs shoulders* *tries to stop toothpastey spit from dripping down chin*
The Roomie: I think you put in a ‘5’ after the first three numbers and then dial the rest.
Me: Mkay, what’s the number?
The Roomie: *calls out number*
Me: *dials* What’s the Stalker Guy”s name?
The Roomie: Aodhan
Me: Cool. Gah! There’s a computer voice! It’s telling me to do stuff! Oh God….uhm…Gah! *hangs up* So that didn’t work then.
The Roomie: Ah ok.
Me: So do you want me to just ring?
The Roomie: Yes please.
Me: *dials again* It’s ringing. Oh God I’m really nervous now.
The Roomie: Keep your toothbrush in your mouth…it disguises your voice!
Me: Ok. Wait hold on, he doesn’t know me!! I’m going…eeep!
Phone Voice: Hello?
Me: Gah, uhm Hello! Eh…who is this?
Phone Voice: Hello?
Me: *making wild gestures at The Roomie* Oh, uhm, God I’m sorry, I actually think I might have the wrong number.
Phone Voice: Who are you looking for?
Me: *don’t say Aodhan, don’t say Aodhan, don’t say Aodhan* Uhm….Ao….ah, Brian. I’m looking for Brian. But, em, this is the wrong number.
Phone Voice: *laughs* Yes it is.
Me: Really sorry about that!
Phone Voice: No worries, have a nice night.
Me: You too! *hangs up* Brian!? Brian. Brian!?? I panicked and went to say his actual name and then moved to the next letter of the alphabet…and came up with ‘Brian’!
The Roomie: So who was it!?
Me: A boy, so well, we’ve narrowed it down to a boy. Which isn’t that helpful. He sounds nice though, so maybe not Stalker Boy. He sounds D4ish, but Nice D4ish, not Knob D4ish. *does impression* “Have a nice night”. Right, that actually just sounded exactly like my own voice.
The Roomie: We probably should’ve put it on loud speaker.
Me: Yeah….that was a really terrible plan….
I’m really useless.
I’m the girl that laughs hysterically when the guy says “I’m having the worst week” or saying weird things like “I have the weirdest rash on my…”
Anyway, working in Lentra wasn’t the most stimulating of jobs and I think that was the reason we (the girls) focused so much of our energy on the boys that came into the shop.
I remember Orla being OBSESSED with this rather average-looking guy that used to come in for his lunch, so much so that she’d spend all day talking about him and then she’d be so stressed out by the time he finally came in that she’d have to hide in the back….or under the food counter.
That’s a story for another day though.
Today you’re hearing about Abberley Boy.
Abberley Boy worked in the Abberley, which was a pub situated at the end of the shop’s street and happened to be our local.
He wasn’t overly attractive or funny or charismatic, but one day I decided he was THE MOST BEAUTIFUL CREATURE IN THE WORLD and from that moment on, I couldn’t talk to him like a proper human being should be able to.
Mostly I’d just mumble at him and make too much eye contact, but this one time I decided enough was enough and I was going to talk to him.
He joined the queue at the till I was working on one Sunday afternoon.
I watched him as I was serving the other customers trying to think of some witty observation I could make or something interesting I could say.
I noticed he looked a little tired and there were bits of dust on his top.
I know….I’d make a thoughtful enquiry into his well-being.
He stepped up to the till and opened my mouth:
“Oh my God, you look terrible!!!!!!!!!” I said in a strained hysterical voice.
I closed my mouth.
Ok just stop talking, I told myself.
He looked awkward.
“Oh uhm…” he began.
“SERIOUSLY!” I said. “You look REALLY terrible! What HAPPENED to you!? You look awful!”
Ah ah ah ah ah ah, stop forming sounds and words!!
“Oh, uhm, well we’re cleaning out the cellar at the pub,” he said, looking really uncomfortable and probably wishing I’d hurry up scanning his lunch items. “And we’re moving barrels around and stuff, so….”
“Oh right,” I said. “Cool…..cos you look REALLY awful!”
I was one step away from shouting ‘I Love Lamp’
“Oh…eh….ha,” he said, practically throwing his money at me.
I pretty much threw his change right back at him so he’d leave the shop before I said anything else.
“Thanks, cool, well, bye,” he muttered, gathering up his lunch.
“Yeah bye,” I said. “And don’t work too hard, cos you really do look like a mess,” I added waving him out the door.
Just TOO smooth…
Now I’ve told you before that I met The Boy when we were working in a shop in Tallaght, back in the days of our youth. During that first summer we casually (and secretly) started seeing seeing each other, this girl Molly started working there. She was very obviously madly in love with The Boy (he was a heartbreaker) and was also much prettier and flirtier and socialier and chattier than moi, and so, made me feel like hideous poo every time I was in her presence. Obviously me and The Boy were playing it cool and whatevs during those first few months, so I didn’t know how serious he was about me and therefore spent a lot of time secretly worrying that her shameless flirting and hair flicking would pay off.
Anyway, the long and the short of it is that Molly equals My Enemy (you guys know how dramatic I am by now!).
So we’re sitting on the bus into town and as our conversation lulled for a second, the bus pulled up to a stop and who gets on but Molly.
For fricksake!!! I was having a GOOD day!!! Damn my stupid hair! Hers looks amazing and Loreal-commercial-like!
So I decided I was just going to be the bigger person and pretend I don’t see her. Plus The Boy looked oblivious so I knew he either hadn’t seen her or didn’t recognise her …I wasl totally going to get away with this! And it’s not like she’d say anything if she sees we’re not acknowledging her…
I was so wrong.
He looked up clueless.
“Oh my Gaaaaawd, The Boy!!!”
He seemed confused and looked at me as if she was saying “Hermia!?” in that idiotic way and not “The Boy!?”.
“The Boy, it’s me!!!”
We looked at each other and I fake-mirrored his baffled look.
“Omg The Boy! You don’t recognise me???? Ha ha ha ha ha, OMG!!” *flicks hair* Also at this point she was standing in the MIDDLE of the bus aisle so no one could get by!
“Omg The Boy, look at you! Ha ha ha, Oh The Boy it’s Molly!!”
He looked at me again, silently asking for help.
It was just getting painful now and everyone was looking at us so I gave in: “Oh Molly from the shop?”
She looked me up and down, as if trying to figure out why I’d dare speak to her.
“Yeah. Oh The Boy, ha ha, I can’t believe you didn’t recognise me!!!!”
That bitch! She TOTALLY knew who I was!
She strutted down to the back of the bus where we were sitting: what was WRONG with her!? Who does that!!? The polite social thing to do is to ignore anyone you only kinda know if they’re not even LOOKING at you! You don’t accost them and force them to tolerate you!!
The Boy had his foot up on the seat across from us and hadn’t moved it, so she put her hand on his leg, playfully pushed it over and sat down across from him.
“Oh God, The Boy, it’s sooo weird to see you here!!!! I only text you the other day!!!! Oh my God, The Boy, I can’t believe you didn’t know who I was!!!” She giggled like a horse, flicked her hair and threw me a smug look.
Now I know I should be secure enough not to get jealous of a girl who is flirting with my boyfriend, but you know, I’m a crazy girl, so what are you going to do!? I was just fuming at the fact that she’d obviously copped we were together (he had is arm around me, which obviously indicates ‘couple’) and she was STILL FLIRTING WITH HIM…WHILE I SAT THERE! What happened to female loyalty ….or at least non-skankosity!?
Oh and I should add that I already knew she had text him during the week because she was looking for the mobile number of one of our old managers. I also happened to know that he DIDN’T BOTHER REPLYING! So while she thought she was making me jealous, I was actually like Ha ha ha, he didn’t even text you back and he texts me back ALL THE TIME!
So The Boy was shoulder-shrugging and couple-of-words-replying and whatevering (God, I love him!lol!) and then she looked at me and said “Oh hi, it’s …Hermia …isn’t it?”
“Hmmmm” I replied, all Like-You’re-Even-Important-Enough-For-Me-To-Care-You-Rememeber-My-Name-ish. I know it totally bothered her ….on the inside.
But, oh God that journey was unbearable …she wouldn’t shut up talking…and she was only talking about herself! And then it turned out we were getting off at the same stop in town, but in this genius Shining-Type moment, The Boy and I just stayed sitting when she stood up and we waited until the next stop to get off.
As we walked towards our cake, The Boy said “She’s but on a bit of weight, hasn’t she?”
“Well, we’ve all added a few pounds since those high-metabolism days of our youth,” I said, sighing dramatically, and placing my hand against my forehead in manner of great stage actress of the 1920s. “Well except you,” I added, poking his tummy.
“And you, you eejit!” he said, poking me back. “You’re just as tiny as the day I met you!!”
I linked him happily! Yes, I know he was just being lovely, but I didn’t care! He was nice to me and not to her, and as I’m his girlfriend who he lives with, I totally kicked the bitch’s ass!!!
One point to Me (and therefore all Normal Girlkind) and zero to Her (and therefore All the Hot’n’Sexy Man-Stealing Wenches)!
There’s hope for the world yet!