I am Jack’s sense of crushing defeat
Ordinarily Toast and I don’t overlap in girl-taste too much. Given that we both live so far apart this is usually inconsequential anyway. However internet dating can be a little like a long-distance version of one of those Panini sticker collections; we both often find potential dates that we think the other might be interested in and will pass on the info in the manner of kids swapping stickers. “Got, got, swap… OOH, a shiny!” (ok… perhaps I’m taking the analogy too far now, unless you are into hypothermia victims in emergency blankets).
Occasionally we find girls that we’re both interested in. Last night I sent Toast a link to a girl I was rather taken with, purely as an offhand “look, she’s lovely” type of approach. He misinterpreted my banter as a recommendation and rather took a shine to her himself. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go, the swine.
Rather than duke it out over MSN we decided that the only way to approach this was to BOTH email and see who was successful. Suddenly it had all turned a bit Fight Club: shirts off, circling, beads of sweat running down the forehead, keen eyes alert for the opportunity to land the knockout blow. I gladly proposed this approach as my response rate to opening emails has been pretty good. I also had an absolutely world-beating plan: I would draw a PICTURE!
Now the girl in question had made reference to an experience drawing avian mammals in a particular park whilst drunk. In a moment of inspired comedy I set to, sketched the above picture and sent it in the full knowledge that she would find it hilarious and be instantly compelled to marry me, or at least buy the first drink and a packet of pork scratchings.
24 hours later and no reply….. clearly she was composing herself to construct a response worthy of such a masterpiece. Then came the bombshell… Toast had a reply. A bloody REPLY???? HE didn’t spend an hour grappling with the inaccuracies of his optical mouse on a shiny desktop. All HE had done was write some WORDS! I mean… anyone could do that.
So… the result of the first Girl-Off™ is conclusive: Toast 1 – Biscuit 0.
Evidently there was a lesson to learn here, although I’m not entirely sure what it is:
- Be super secret over girls I fancy.
- I cannot draw as well as I think I can.
- Toast has used some Derren Brown mind control.
- Next time we should ACTUALLY fight it out, Queensbury rules.
Perhaps it’s just: “The first rule of Fight Club is don’t draw pictures of animals being sick”.