Tag Archives: slice of life

15. Yet another Valentine’s Day without a boyfriend

Yet another Valentine’s Day without a boyfriend. That makes it seven years running now. It’s not as though I haven’t had my fair share of relationships in the past seven years – though most of them purely sexual, I must confess – but for some reason on February 14th I always find myself without someone to cuddle and kiss.

My friends tell me my standards are too high. That I should accept that I am never going to find the perfect soul-mate. That I should just find a guy who ticks some of the boxes, not all, and be content with that.

Unfortunately that is not the way I roll. If I can’t have it all I’d rather not have anything. An intelligent man should surely exist and if he really is smart, I bet he has a sense of humour as well. He shouldn’t necessarily be handsome, but I must find him cute. Wearing glasses would therefore be a plus. And he has to excite me in the sack, that goes without saying. He must be good with kids as well (because I intend to bare him a couple) and willing to put up with my numerous idiosyncrasies.

That is a bar I will not lower. Not for anyone. Except on the 14th of February, maybe. Because it sure would be nice to have a boyfriend on Valentine’s Day.

 

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13. Incoherent strumming

Incoherent strumming. How else could one describe the musical ‘prowess’ of the guy? The Strummer of Parc I call him, for each morning on my way from the Parc subway station to my day job, there he is, in easy pose, banging the wooden chimes in front of him in the same tone-deaf 21-note melody.

In the two years I’ve known him, he has never strayed from his melodic path. One wonders if he doesn’t get sick of the incessant daily strumming himself. I know I do. The initial pity I had for Strummer has long been replaced by a disdain that eats away at my soul like an acidic ulcer.

So during my summer vacation I decided to teach the guy a lesson. For two weeks I took up residence on the spot in the walkway just across his usual hide-out, my saxophone in tow. At first Strummer was merely perplexed by my unusual tactics. But soon his eyes were shooting venomous darts as I played a selection of jazz standards and was rewarded amply for my versatility by the commuters.

This went on for a couple of days, during which neither of us uttered a word towards the other. Then he changed tactics. He started to jam. His 21-note repertory was expanded beyond my belief as his strumming complemented my sax and thrilled the passers-by. My disdain subsided and had almost completely disappeared by the time I traded in my saxophone for my day job again.

But as I walked by Strummer the following Monday he had resorted to his usual melody. All my efforts had been in vain it seemed. I thought about addressing the matter with him, but the only thought running through my head was ‘now there’s a summer vacation wasted’.

 

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Did you enjoy this story? Then why not try the 101 stories in 300 words or less in YOU’RE GETTING SLEEPY, THE HYPNOTIST’S APPRENTICE YAWNED.

Available at the Createspace Store, at amazon.com, amazon.co.uk or any other Amazon store in your territory.  E-book is also available.

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12. An infernal storm raged inside Kevin’s head

An infernal storm raged inside Kevin’s head. In the morning the ache had remained contained to his temples, but gradually the numbing pulsations had spread to his eyes and to the broken wisdom tooth he hadn’t had fixed two years ago.

Eight hours in front of the computer were a daunting task on normal work days, let alone with the weight of an upcoming flu pressing on his eyelids. Kevin could hardly keep them open, as a gesture from his cynical colleague across the desk made abundantly clear.

Adding insult to injury was an uncomfortably growling stomach, possibly the result of that tuna pizza Kevin should not have eaten last night.

His ills could of course all be the result of the gruelling schedule he had kept for this first month of the year. Watching a movie a day – his new year’s resolution – turned out not to be that difficult a thing to do. But combined with the partying, the boozing and the late, late nights? It had to catch up on Kevin one time or another. He had just hoped it wouldn’t be this soon.

As his finger hovered over the cell phone speed dial, he eventually decided not to cancel squash tonight after all. Indeed: last time Kevin had played while sick, he had beaten his friends unexpectedly… and soundly. Perhaps tonight would spell the same scenario.

That thought alone was enough to ease the pain for a moment, as Kevin put together the last sentence he’d ever write before the brain tumour finally caught up with him.

 

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Did you enjoy this story? Then why not try the 101 stories in 300 words or less in YOU’RE GETTING SLEEPY, THE HYPNOTIST’S APPRENTICE YAWNED.

Available at the Createspace Store, at amazon.com, amazon.co.uk or any other Amazon store in your territory.  E-book is also available.

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