I like Valentine’s Day. I love the role of bemused bystander, watching the girls in work expectantly waiting all day for a show of affection from their loved one, or spotting couples after work through restaurant windows sitting in uncomfortable silence with each other as they struggle to think of something to say.
This year, I’ve decided to mark the occasion by sharing a golden sample of my illustrious dating experiences leading up to the big day itself.
Last night, I shared the story of “Fishgate“. Tonight’s story, “Fringe Benefits”, is below.
I was also fifteen when I went out with K. It lasted but a week, only this time I was the one who was smitten. For a public schoolboy he was a little bit edgy. He drove a scooter and had a shaved head except for a fringe at the front. The Saturday he called round my parents’ home for our date, he’d fashioned his fringe into three thin dreadlocks which hung limply in front of his face. This, in my eyes, only added to his coolness. When I asked what he’d used to style his hair, “Window Cleaner” was the response.
That afternoon, we walked around the perimeter of Heavitree Park (twice), stopping off for a kiss at every other park bench. We walked hand in hand into town, had a McDonalds and later I waved him off at the bus stop. I was in love.
The following week, he waited for me every day after school to walk me home. Only I was nowhere to be seen. I found the strength of my feelings for him too overwhelming to even contemplate meeting him in person and hid in the classroom, paralysed by my passion, until eventually, he just gave up waiting.
Tomorrow’s story is Pinter-rest