A homage to loading screens.
In which we overhear surprise
Walking down Clare Street yesterday. Behind me was a couple, late-twentysomething at a rough guess, the woman carrying a big, quite expensive clothes-store carrier bag.
Him: How are you enjoying our date?
Her, surprised: This is a date?
In which we remember things, but look forward too
…is a bit of a cheat. Because there isn’t one thing I want to add which would round the year off. There are too many moments which would leave it incomplete. The Cat returning. Someone taking me for a quiet walk in the park, so they could split up with me. Going for a first date with someone else, and watching their last train home pull out of the station because we didn’t realise it was about to leave. Someone trying to kick my car windows in, whilst I was sat inside the car. So many people who have made this year very special—in particular, V-
The Plain People Of The Internet: Hang on, what’s this? You’re writing your Oscar acceptance speech now or something?
There’s no point looking back too much. The best we can hope to do is manage not to repeat too many mistakes over again. I’m going to go out tonight, and enjoy myself, and look to the future…
In which we wonder why people set themselves up to suffer
There are many things I just don’t understand about people, but this is one I’ve been thinking about lately.
A month or more ago now, I wrote about Big Dave’s Dating Life. In particular, about one particular girl from his darts team, who was constantly tempted to go back to her ex-boyfriend even though he tended to beat her up whenever she visited him. Big Dave’s romantic contribution: a few vigilante-style threats to help persuade him to stop.
Anyway, Big Dave’s wooing proceeded according to plan, with a few dates which got more and more serious as time went on. Until last week, when he was cruelly dumped by text message, because she’d decided to go back to the abusive ex, with still no sign that he really was going to stop the beatings.
No sooner had this happened, then one of the worse gossip-mongers at our branch in Another Part Of The Forest starts telling us that one of her underlings – a woman who I’ll call Antivirus – is on a diet, because she wants to look good for her wedding. Which is, well, news.
I don’t know Antivirus very well, but we do chat to each other on the phone every week or so, and the last I’d heard about her relationship really didn’t sound promising. To put it bluntly, a few months ago it had broken down. Not only was she moving out, but she was moving out secretly. She’d planned to wait until she knew the boyfriend was securely at work, then she rushed in with some friends in a van, so that he’d come home to find her, her kids,* all her possessions gone. Because she was terrified of how he’d react if she told him she was leaving.
If you ask me, that’s not a good relationship to be in. It’s not the sort of relationship you’re going to want to go back to. But, for some reason, she has. Not only that, but she’s agreed to marry him.
Obviously, I don’t know the details of either of these cases. Maybe there’s a good reason for everything here. Maybe both of these men have turned over a completely new leaf, and are going to be perfect partners from now on. That’s what they’ve probably promised, at any rate. If it was me, though, I wouldn’t be convinced. There are lots of aspects of relationships I don’t understand, but there are some people who really baffle me.
* not his, in case you were wondering.
In which Big Dave is threatening
Last week, I told you about Big Dave’s Impending Date. This week, I’ve been finding out what happened. This is all retold second-hand from what he told me; but this is pretty much exactly how he said it.
Quick summary of the Story So Far: Big Dave asked a girl from the Darts League out, even though she wasn’t single, because her dad kept pressuring him to do it. On Saturday, they were supposed to be going out for a drink.
Well, she cancelled. Then, on Sunday, she didn’t show up at the darts. So, Dave asks around a bit to see what’s going on. It turns out, she went to visit her ex, who then decided to beat her up.
Dave pops round to visit, and sees the rather nasty bruises all over her face, which explain why she hasn’t been about. “You won’t do anything though, will you?” she said to him, nervously.
“Of course not,” says Big Dave, fingers crossed behind his back. As soon as he leaves her, he goes straight round to the man’s house. As soon as he opens the door, Dave’s hands are round his neck and he’s up against the wall.
Now, there is a reason he’s called Big Dave. And the man in question is, according to Dave, your typical kind of girlfriend-beater: small and skinny himself, and a coward. The sort of bully who will take his anger out on people he knows aren’t going to fight back. With Dave there, he needs to change his trousers. “I don’t have a problem with you, mate,” he kept stammering. “You do now,” Dave replies. He leaves without doing any damage, but with Dire Threats should anything happen in future.
I’m slightly in two minds about all this myself. On the one hand, the scumbag sounds like a nasty piece of work who clearly had it coming. Nevertheless, I’m still a little nervous around vigilante justice. Especially when I share an office with the vigilante in question. And the girl Dave was trying to help isn’t talking to him at the moment. Because she didn’t want anyone to make a fuss about it. She just wanted everyone to ignore her hideous bruises and let it all die down again.
Or, Big Dave may be on to something
Big Dave At The Office is making a move back onto the dating scene. He’s mostly doing this, as far as I can tell, by playing darts.
I knew he was on his dad’s darts team, playing weekly at various dodgy-sounding pubs round the area.* I knew, too, that there was a woman on the team – also there with her dad – who he was getting friendly with; but that as she isn’t single, nothing had happened.
“So, I was at the darts last Thursday,” says Big Dave, “and you remember that lass I was telling you about? She wasn’t there, but her dad just comes up to us and says: ‘Why haven’t you boned my daughter yet?’ As if he’s insulted that I haven’t, or something.”
“But I thought she wasn’t single?”
“Well, yeah,” said Dave. “Anyway, this week, I was stood talking to her after the match, and her dad comes up to us again. And he says to her: ‘Why haven’t you let him bone you yet?’ I think he’s trying to drop hints.”
“Subtle,” I said. “Very subtle. What does he say to her boyfriend?”
“Well, I dunno,” he replied. “But we’re kind of going on a date on Saturday.”
If I hear how he gets on, I will keep you posted.
* such as the one where local pre-teens will hang about in the car park offering to get you practically anything for twenty quid, and if you take them up on it, will return with a freshly-nicked anything within a couple of hours.
In which a craze sweeps the office
The current craze at the office – among the handful of single people, at least – seems to be online dating. I’ve mentioned before that I’ve got an online personal advert, which decided that my perfect partner in the whole country was someone who is already a good friend. Now, other people are apparently doing the same thing.
Well, a couple of people at least. One of the co-workers thought she’d celebrate her divorce by meeting some new people, so she signed up on a dating website. However, she soon came across the same problem as me. The site she used easily found her a nearby match. Unfortunately, rather too nearby – a manager down the corridor, known to almost all in the building as Annoying Tosser. News of his personal ad rapidly spread round the building.* However, I’m not completely sure if it’s spread as far as his girlfriend yet. That should be interesting.
*** Although, of course, none of us have actually seen it, because the woman who found it doesn’t want to risk us finding hers too, so won’t tell us where she found it.
In which something obscure keeps popping up
Have you ever noticed that sometimes one little thing seems to be popping up all over the place?
Earlier today, browsing the interweb, I read a short Freaky Trigger item about Uncle, a series of children’s books from the 1960s that I’d never ever heard of before. Which is a shame, because – according to this Economist article about them* – they sounded to be exactly the sort of children’s books that I’d have loved if I had known about them when they were still in print.
So then, later on, I’m browsing an internet dating site, and reading the profile of an attractive-looking person. And, what do they list among the 100 things they couldn’t live without? The Uncle books, of course.
I’m on the lookout now. The slightest mention of J P Martin’s Uncle books anywhere, and I’m going to jump up and shout: “Aha! A third coincidence!” before running off to my nearest second-hand bookstore** to search frantically for copies. Because they must be significant somehow. Right?
* I have to say, the Economist isn’t my usual reading.
** As the nearest decent one I can think of quickly is about 40 miles away, this might take a while. I might not run all the way there.
Or, someone has a plan to improve my love live
Colleague M has a cunning plan. A cunning plan to help me get a date.
This cunning plan is based around M’s theory that people suddenly get a lot more attractive when they’re unavailable. Bluntly put, if someone’s already taken, you’re much more likely to start crushing on them.
So, to help me look more attractive, M has invited me out for the day. “It’s not a date,” I was immediately told, “and I’m not going to snog you.” But, once word surreptitiously gets around the office,* however much we say “we’re just friends” noone will actually believe us. Therefore, everyone will think I’m taken, and will therefore be more likely to try to pull me when they get drunk at the Christmas party next month.
I’m not entirely convinced that this is going to work. If it does, though, I’ll keep you posted.
* And, indeed, it already has. It hasn’t even happened yet, and people are already raising eyebrows and saying things like: “have a good weekend, you two“.
Or, getting suspicious
Big Dave is up to something.
Big Dave is my main co-worker. He’s a big chap, and he’s called Dave. And he’s pretty open about stuff. Just lately, though, he’s definitely been up to something.
He asked if I could cover for him and stay late yesterday, so he could leave early. “If I leave when you normally do,” he said, “I can get to the gym an hour earlier. It would be nice to have a change.” Not having any plans myself, I agreed.
Back in this morning. “How was the gym last night, then?”
“Didn’t actually go to the gym,” he says. “Had something else to do.”
“Oh yes?”
“Mmm. I was busy.”
So, something’s definitely going on. It sounds like Big Dave’s got a date.
In which I try to meet new people, but find people I already know
A few weeks ago, feeling bored, I signed up with an online dating site.* It’s free, it only takes a few minutes to fill out, it’s just a bit of fun, you never know what might happen, and so on. Scientifically, it promises to find you your very best possible match from the people in your district. Of course, hardly anyone came up from this area, so I went away and forgot about it.
Yesterday, I thought: why don’t I look at it again? Why don’t I look further afield? So, I searched for my best match out of everybody in the country. And found one. My ideal partner, out of every man and woman in the country on this popular dating site, is my friend K.** So much for meeting new people!
* but no, I’m not telling you which one, or what my profile name is.
** I recognised their profile immediately, because I was there when the photo was taken.
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