I'm in the mood...
I'm bored now. I've been working my ass off the whole damn day, but it's been so damn boring, it's just damn unbelievable.
I had boring meetings with interesting people, did boring clerical work on interesting projects, and even had a boring lunch at an exciting restaurant.
So I thought I'd tell you about my most boring boyfriend so far.
Let's call him "Bunty" - a nice, safe, boring nickname. He was 23, doing his MBA, and I was 20, working.
My first view of Bunty was of him sitting at a bar table with a mug of beer in his hand. He had shaved his head, and cultivated a french beard. Of course, my tongue dropped to the floor immediately, effectively preventing me from swooning in eye-candy ecstasy.
When I finally managed to roll it back, I grabbed my friends' arms for fresh support.
(There were two of them. I was the single kabab-mein-haddi. I normally am incidentally, though that's tough to believe from what you read here)
So anyway, I gasped out my appreciation of (oh-so) Hottie, and leered viciously and nauseatingly.
Till I realised they were walking up to him. Oh joy oh joy oh joy oh joy oh joy ohjoyohjoyohjoyohjoy!!
Aside: The pub we visited is known for wretches who are conformingly non-conformists. Y'know the regular long hair, cigarette, beer, grass, rock music, dumpster attitude... In the midst of all those skulls and skeletons, a normal person (an outstanding specimen, even) was a true breath of fresh air.
So I joyfully got introduced to him, tried to make myself heard over the racket in the pub, and ended up charming him so much that he dropped me home. At which point, I promptly invited him for my birthday party a week later.
Starting with the party, dear ol' Bunty and I became inseparable. Again, we were an extremely good-looking couple, matching each other perfectly, structurally: our heights, weights, shapes, likes and dislikes. We could've been in the movies.
Which might even have been a good thing, coz at least we'd have had a script then. Alas for me, Bunty was all brawn, no brain. (he wasn't even all brawn, being more lean and wiry than muscled and bulky) He had no conversation to make with me - nothing to say to me, and certainly nothing to counter anything I said to him.
His single, recurring whine was that I should see him when he began to work - he'd have it all going for him them. As in, the money would give him the confidence of interation. Poor, deluded man... he hadn't budgeted for the brains.
For a couple of months, his looks, and his praise of me kept me (us) going. we would do nothing but sit and drink coffee and smoke (at that time, I didn't even smoke - I would just watch) And no, we didn't even kiss all that often - just twice actually. I accidentally opened my eyes that once, and saw what his face looked like "in the moment". Trust me, I was careful to keep them shut the next time!
After these happy coupla months, I got really bored and dumped him. You know what he said? "Just wait till I start working. You'll never be able to resist me then." Well guess what, I did.
Plus, you know how hot he looked when bald? Well... that was not deliberate.
posted by La Eposa @ 7:35 PM
