Her eyes were like twin pools of infinity. The buttons on her quirky dungarees were burnished by the cool light of a freezer crammed to the brim with fi shfi ngers. The own-brand Weetabix she held in her delicate, slender fi ngers gleamed with a transcendental lustre. Rower Lad’s honest heart swelled with love.
“H-hi! How are you?” he asked hesitantly. The rapier-sharp wit he exhibited when playing FIFA 14 after a few turbo shandies with the boys was nowhere to be found. Only the other day he had called someone a cockmuncher after they’d beat him on penalties! Yet another example of his classic banter.
That was the sort of doltishly homophobic humour you just couldn’t teach. You either had it or you didn’t, and normally Rower Lad had it in buckets. But now, confronted with this vision in kooky floral-print tights, all his charm had deserted him.
“Not bad,” replied Houmous Girl, slightly too enthusiastically.
Her chirpy demeanour belied the sudden flutter of kooky floralprint butterflies in her belly. Seen anew, and shorn of the putrescent odour of WKD which had accompanied their brief and saliva-filled tryst, she had to admit he was a pretty handsome bloke. She mentally compared Rower Lad’s oaken biceps to the limp Pepperami which drooped from the baggy sleeves of Obnoxiously Opinionated Guy’s t-shirt. In this contest of course there was only ever going to be one winner.
“You’re Rower Lad, right?” she asked. “Me? Yes! How are you?” he replied.
“I think you already asked that,” pointed out Houmous Girl. They both considered this suggestion for a while. It seemed pretty hard to ignore. Rower Lad gazed at her forlornly.
It was like seeing a sad little puppy gazing wistfully out through the dark eyes of a 16-stone, bevvy legend. Houmous Girl knew she was going to have to take the initiative. Thankfully, three years of intense study of gender theory had taught her that it was probably basically fine for a girl to ask a guy if he fancied a drink.
Rower Lad turned to leave, his heart dropping through the ketchup-stained linoleum.
“Why don’t you ask me on a date?” Houmous Girl asked with a smile.
