Two
What do I care anyway?
I’m debating whether to shower or add Dad’s latest effort to my “Crimes of the Parents” blog when the phone rings and saves me the effort of either. It’ll be Mike, Gary or Mum. I know this because I’m mildly psychic, plus they’re the only three people who ever call me - oh, and I have caller i.d.
‘Miiiiiiiiiiiike.’
‘Des?’
I’ve been doing the Miiiiiiiike greeting for two years and he still isn’t sure that it’s me. ‘No, it’s Harry Potter.’ (See how I snuck that in again?)
‘Oh. What are you doing this afternoon?’
‘I’ve got an idea for a new design, and I’m going to do some blogging – and don’t ask me what blogging is again.’ Mike’s the only guy in the country who doesn’t have a computer.
‘Oh. Wanna play golf?’
I like golf, it doesn’t require bruising or sweat. On the negative it is expensive and I’m the definitive hacker. ‘Yeah, I don’t know.’
‘Lisa wants to come and she has a friend that wants to play too.’
‘You’re setting me up?’ It sounded suspiciously like doo doo.
‘Oh, no, just that they wanted to play,’ said Mike.
‘How many times has Lisa played golf?’
‘Er, never.’
Smelled like doo doo. ‘And her friend?’
‘Probably never either, but they want to learn.’
Squelches like doo doo too. ‘I don’t know.’ I’ve never done a blind date thing. I like to check people out before I’m required to spend an allotted space of continuous time with them. Things work out better that way.
‘She’s cute,’ offered Mike into my pregnant silence.
Silence was the only thing I was likely to get pregnant such was my non existent love life, so cute had a larger effect on me than it should have. ‘Is she anything like Lisa?’ I asked.
Lisa is kind of a hotty, but she’s also a ten-timing do-anyone gold-digging hoe, which is fine for a while, as in overnight, but Mike didn’t see it like that. He was on a mission to save her. Fair enough I guess, but I wasn’t that sort of missionary, and I had no interest in becoming one.
‘Well, not really,’ said Mike, sounding a little deflated about it.
‘Ok then.’ I told you cute had a big effect on me.
‘Pick you up in an hour.’
He knew better than to hang on long enough for me to change my mind. I shrugged at the dial tone and looked over at my prehistoric PC. Blogging would have to wait. It’d take an hour to get the stink off me.
I’m debating whether to shower or add Dad’s latest effort to my “Crimes of the Parents” blog when the phone rings and saves me the effort of either. It’ll be Mike, Gary or Mum. I know this because I’m mildly psychic, plus they’re the only three people who ever call me - oh, and I have caller i.d.
‘Miiiiiiiiiiiike.’
‘Des?’
I’ve been doing the Miiiiiiiike greeting for two years and he still isn’t sure that it’s me. ‘No, it’s Harry Potter.’ (See how I snuck that in again?)
‘Oh. What are you doing this afternoon?’
‘I’ve got an idea for a new design, and I’m going to do some blogging – and don’t ask me what blogging is again.’ Mike’s the only guy in the country who doesn’t have a computer.
‘Oh. Wanna play golf?’
I like golf, it doesn’t require bruising or sweat. On the negative it is expensive and I’m the definitive hacker. ‘Yeah, I don’t know.’
‘Lisa wants to come and she has a friend that wants to play too.’
‘You’re setting me up?’ It sounded suspiciously like doo doo.
‘Oh, no, just that they wanted to play,’ said Mike.
‘How many times has Lisa played golf?’
‘Er, never.’
Smelled like doo doo. ‘And her friend?’
‘Probably never either, but they want to learn.’
Squelches like doo doo too. ‘I don’t know.’ I’ve never done a blind date thing. I like to check people out before I’m required to spend an allotted space of continuous time with them. Things work out better that way.
‘She’s cute,’ offered Mike into my pregnant silence.
Silence was the only thing I was likely to get pregnant such was my non existent love life, so cute had a larger effect on me than it should have. ‘Is she anything like Lisa?’ I asked.
Lisa is kind of a hotty, but she’s also a ten-timing do-anyone gold-digging hoe, which is fine for a while, as in overnight, but Mike didn’t see it like that. He was on a mission to save her. Fair enough I guess, but I wasn’t that sort of missionary, and I had no interest in becoming one.
‘Well, not really,’ said Mike, sounding a little deflated about it.
‘Ok then.’ I told you cute had a big effect on me.
‘Pick you up in an hour.’
He knew better than to hang on long enough for me to change my mind. I shrugged at the dial tone and looked over at my prehistoric PC. Blogging would have to wait. It’d take an hour to get the stink off me.
© 2004-5 by Des at 9:50 am
2 comments
Tuesday, December 07, 2004
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