We interrupt this blog for a hilarious story…
Something pretty hilarious happened just this morning and I wanted to share it with you. Yeah, it’s pretty embarassing and yeah, most people would keep this story to themselves, but I’m a writer and I realised don’t let myself be vulnerable with my writing enough. In fact, I usually keep the poetry and short stories and other fictional works where I bare my feelings to myself, because like everyone else, I’m afraid of being hurt. But this one, although it stung, made me laugh more than anything else. It’s a bit lengthy, but I promise it’s funny. And a little bit tragic…
This story, we’re calling:
Why you shouldn’t become a workaholic (Georgia isn’t very good at boys)
Five weeks ago I was out in Parramatta visiting a giant rubber duck, remember that? After that, we went for a wee jaunt around the Westfield, as my friend Matt loves this second hand DVD/Games store they have out there. There were four of us, and while Matt was doing a DVD swap, I got talking to the guy behind the counter about my sparkly jelly shoes, who was not only cute, but fit and was absolutely flirting with me.
Well… that’s what Matt and the others reckoned. So much so that they MADE ME GO BACK TO THE STORE 15 MINUTES LATER AND GIVE HIM MY NUMBER! After arguing about it for a bit, I announced that I would, just to say that I did it. And, well, ok… he was really cute.
I went back into the store and, I’m not kidding, he jumped up and down and excitedly said: “You’re back!”, I smiled, picked out a DVD and bought it. We got chatting again about my sparkly jelly shoes, and he told me that he asked about them because they didn’t look that comfortable and he’s a personal trainer and cares about that kind of thing (from here on in, we’ll refer to him as PT). Cute. Well, I awkwardly wrote down my phone number on the back of the receipt and made an awkward exit, true Georgia style.
I never heard from PT, convinced that my handwriting was so terrible that he couldn’t read it and oh well, I just had to get over it.
Fast forward to Sunday (three days ago) and I’m back in Parramatta for an event (more on that later). I left the event and on my way to the train station, realised I needed the loo. Walked into the Westfield and, as luck would have it, the closest loo was right next to the store he worked at. Fuck it, I decided, I was going in and if he noticed me, hooray and if not, well whatever. Plus, there was no guarantee he’d even be there.
I found a DVD I definitely wanted and loitered near the counter, waiting for someone to be free. I wasn’t paying attention when PT walked over to me and said, “Hey stranger”. We got talking, he made fun of my DVD purchase (it was Green Porno, if you’ve never seen Green Porno, get on YouTube RIGHT NOW) and then he brought up the receipt from last time…
“So, remember that information you wrote down on the back of your receipt last time? Well, I wasn’t allowed to keep the store receipt and thought maybe you’d write it down again…” He said.
“Are you asking me for my number again?” I asked and laughed, before agreeing – he was still cute and who asks for someones number a SECOND TIME unless they’re interested? He put it in his phone, told me we should hang out some time, I gave him a stupid smile and left, giddy and smug about the whole thing.
Yesterday, he texted me and asked when he could call me. My co-worker gushed, “Omg that’s so adorable, he wants to call you!” I grinned smugly… ok, ok, fine. I grinned like an idiot.
After a few missed calls each way, me being a busy little lady during Mardi Gras, him working weird hours, etc, we spoke this morning.
PT: “I wanted to ask you why you gave me your number.”
Me: “The first time or the second time?”
Me: “Well, the first time, because I thought you were cute and my friends egged me into it. The second time was because you asked for it.”
That’s where shit got awkward. Turns out, PT thought I wanted a personal trainer because that’s all he thinks about and he wasn’t able to keep my number from the first time because his manager told him he couldn’t use the store to get work for his fitness business. When he asked for my number a second time, his co-worker called him out on it, said that I was flirting with him and so he called me to make it right.
Fun Fact: I DIDN’T EVEN KNOW HE WAS A PERSONAL TRAINER UNTIL AFTER I WENT BACK TO GIVE HIM MY NUMBER THE FIRST TIME! Also, using the phrase ‘we should hang out’ after the second time, well that’s not misleading at all…
Anyways, he was a total sweetheart about it (it takes a lot of guts to call a girl and do the right thing, about as many as it took me to go back and give him my number the first time), we laughed it off, I told him I was going to write about it (he knows I’m a writer) and he agreed that he probably deserved that… I’m sending him the link to this right now.
And that, everyone, is one of the best reasons to not be a workaholic.
Hey buddy, I absolutely think you definitely owe me a personal training session.
Has anyone else ever done anything this gutsy that’s ended up back-firing so hilariously? Share below.