The following is founded in truth. If it were not, there’d be no basis or reason for its potentially offensive nature. Many aspects, though, have been changed to protect the guilty. As for the guilty, well, it’s all a matter of perspective.
With thanks to Asad Photo Maldives for use of the header image.
He always had expectations
Crazy expectations
Every time we went out
Like
The night wouldn’t be worth it
A few beers and a boogie not enough
He had to pull
But it wasn’t simply that he never did
More so the dramatic way he went about it
I started thinking that maybe he was gay
Which in of itself would be fine
Though not if having to hide it
To be fair I never pulled either
Least when he was around
Dramatically desperate
Wayward hair flowing
His nose always looking
On the verge of running
When he wasn’t there
I didn’t even have to try
Yet would succeed nonetheless
One day he called me
Said he’d met a nice girl
Who despite the loveliness
Had a bit of a problem
That to me suggested
Pre-existing boyfriend, fiancé, husband
In which case leave well alone
But no
Apparently it was her weight
She was, to quote
(though not verbatim)
Of quite unwieldy proportions
Good looking, you understand
. . . just also extremely large
In fact the word he used
Was fat
He called it her problem
But in this respect
It wasn’t her problem at all
Just his
It irked me, truth be told
That he said this
Proud and bold
Not a hint of irony
And so in my head
I wished him bad
Something like a bit ill
Not quite dead
The mind is a powerful thing
At least mine apparently is
For it went down like this:
He decided to ask her out
She replied by saying
He could take her to a friend’s party
Oof!
That should’ve been his first warning
Right there
But desperate to achieve the thing
Always failed in
He agreed
It was Saturday night
Alright!
But he had to work the next day
So he drove to hers
With his clothes for the morrow
On the backseat
She said it was just a short walk
In a local park
That turned out to be
More of a trek through a wood
Which if anything was
Really quite something on
A midsummer’s eve
The party was in a very nice house
So much so
The host didn’t want anyone in it
And so festivities took place outside
In an expansive rear garden
Done up real good
Things were going well
The party real swell
Until some clouds
Of likewise disposition
Moved in overhead
It started to rain like nobody’s business
Cata doxa
The forecast had promised it’d be
Fine all night
No one was prepared
And the host wanted wet people inside
Even less
So everyone left
Though only X and Y
Had come through the park
More like a wood
The going was tough
The ground underfoot
Fast becoming mud
She said
I know a faster shortcut
Through the trees
So off they went
In the pouring rain and dark
On an even lesser path
Along the way
There was a ditch
That with all the water
Had become more of a mire
Bordering on boggy pond
As they passed along the top of it
She slipped
Went sliding all the way in
Splish!
To say she had trouble
Getting back out again
Would be an understatement
If what I was told by him
Is anything to go by
In fact
She couldn’t
And if she’d been walking alone
Would’ve been spending
The night there
She reached out a hand
Asking for help
Which (as it was told to me)
Turned out be given begrudgingly
So an element of justice perhaps
Because instead of pulling her out
Splosh!
You guessed it
After a great struggle
Under the deluge of rain
Up the evermore slippery slope
He managed to get them both
Back onto the path
Drenched and caked in mud
After a monumental trudge
Back at hers
Lucky for him
He had the dry set of clothes
In the back of the car
And what he wanted to do
Having had more than enough
Rolling round in the wet for the night
Was get in them both
And fuck off home
Course first
He needed a shower
From which he emerged
To find the wet clothes asunder
And she insisting
They be stuck in with her washing
No problem whatsoever
Which was a bit too much
Husband and wife for him
Icing on the cake
That despite going through
The whole ditch debacle
He no longer had the slightest
Intention of taking a slice from
Whereas she
Having had him pass
Her meet the friends test
Was all the more eager
To dish out more than just desserts
(she’d already offered a lovely flan
and custard as warming reward;
of which he’d rudely refused)
And move fully onto
What he’d so desperately wanted
All along:
To be in her bed
Her legs all akimbo
Instead he turned her down flat
Blanked her big time
To leave in the dead of night
Saying as he went
That he’d pick up
His hostage taken clothes
The following weekend
All this got relayed my way
During those inbetween days
My sympathy for him
None
Especially when revealing
A wish to simply roll up
Knock on the door
Grab his clothes and be gone
A wish that was
Actually intention
I wished him luck
In their recovery
Though didn’t mean
A word of it
My mind once again
Working what some
Might constitute as magic
Next time we spoke
Had seen another week pass
Only this time
He was really
Really
Really
Agitated
It had gone down like this:
He’d arrived at her door
Asked for no more
Than his clothes back
Only to be told
All cool and bold
That they weren’t there
Had she been burgled?
No
No-no-no
Instead it transpired
She didn’t actually own
A washing machine
So took all her laundry
To her parents
Where she’d left them drying
And all they had to do now
Was go pick them up from
Well, she said ‘all’
Like it the smallest thing ever
Whereas ‘you’ve gotta be kidding’
Was what he thought
Of the endeavour
Still
Fools rush in
He agreed to go
Thinking no further
Than the finality
That would come
With the return of attire
They took a short drive
One with no intention
Of once there
Doing the done thing
And going briefly in
He strictly in a mindset
Of grab and leave
With God speed
Though having to go
Through a polite cup of tea
Turned out to be
The least of his worries
When the door was answered
By a smiling mother and father
And he introduced
As the expected fiancé
The one she’d brought round
For the dinner
That was all but ready
Except for arrival
Of a brother and sister
A couple of aunts plus one uncle
And far from last of all
The proud grandparents
Who loved that particular granddaughter
Like no other
Thanks for reading 🙂
N. P. Ryan
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