So I'm walking through Sainsbury’s in dying need of a ‘Chicago Town’ pizza when I see a really attractive girl standing looking at cards with her little sister. Just as I was walking past them I heard her say to the little girl “which card looks more manly?” This to me was as good as a royal invitation to ‘butt-in’ written on expensive paper in gold ink served on a silver platter. I quickly put my tongue back in my mouth, punched my eyes back in their sockets and turned around shouting “THAT ONE!!”. Now, I had their attention but I realised I had given no indication to which card I was referring to. I desperately throw my index finger in the direction of a card, luckily it missed the floral one and landed on a silvery one next to it. With a slight smile she picks it up and says “really?” I respond with a nod that for some reason I think will give her all the confirmation she needs but now I needed to say something else to extend my time with her. “Look” I say, picking up the card with the flowers on it. “This one is like…” I switch to a very girly pitch “…very pretty, sweet and feminine, while this one….” I grab the silver one from her and put on my most manly voice “…is strong, bold and very masculine”. There was a brief awkwardness where we both realised how much my ‘manly’ voice sounded just like my ‘girly’ voice but oh well.
She glances at the other cards then turns to her lil’ sister and asks “what do you think?”. The little girl, with a face like ‘Catherine Tate’ who GENIUNELY didn't look bothered just shrugged her shoulders and points to a monochromatic stripy card. HA!! I think. That card looks awful…its absolute PANTS!! and not the nice pants that people model in catalogues but the last pair in the back of your draw, with small holes in it and frayed stitching, that you only get out when you’ve worn all the good ones!! The girl looks at the card with a surprised expression……..she picks it up……she studies it…….oh no….she LIKES IT!! She LIKES THE BACK OF THE DRAW PANTS!!! I'm losing a battle to a little 9 year old!! She’ll never go out with a guy who loses battles to 9 year olds!! Suddenly I have an undesirable urge to convince her my card is better. Now I'm not a man (no, hang on there’s more……...I AM a man) I'm not a man WHO thinks well on his feet and as a result I say “But that one has stripes, what if the dude you give it to is wearing a checkered shirt when he opens it, it’ll CLASH!” (hey I told you). By a stroke of luck she finds this slightly funny and jokingly says “that is VERY true”. This is great I think to myself. I said something extremely dumb in total seriousness but she took it as a joke AND she’s playing along with it!! Daniel-1, Little Girl-0.
I then realise this had become more about proving my opinion is better than this little girl’s than a build up to asking for her hot older sister’s number. Now I'm standing there thinking battle won with an overly keen smile on my face like I had just found the cure for cancer or something…….but hang on……….she’s still holding the stripy card!! “I think I’m gonna go with this one though” she says. The little girl suddenly perks up and starts smiling like I was before, which I found ridiculous because there is NO WAY she has found the cure for cancer!! “Plus..” the little girl begins “…his card has no writing in it and you don't like to write in cards……the stripy one has writing”. I couldn't believe this little rugrat!!! THE CHEEK!! she KNEW she had won, now she was just rubbing my face in it!! It wasn’t fair, she had the unfair advantage of actually being her sister!! (Not that I want to be her sister) But its not like I could slide my way in there, cool as a cucumber, flicking a card off the shelf only for it to land perfectly in her hand and say “Hey there toots, this is what you need, elegant, manly, and its pre-written because I know how you hate writing out cards”……err, not that I would actually say "’Hey there toots’, I'm not some sort of 70’s gangster or anything.
Daniel-1, Little Girl-1, but as far as I'm concerned we’ve reached a decider. I remain standing preparing for the final showdown, tumbleweed drifts past, a cactus sways in the breeze, I raise my hand beside my holster and just as I'm about to draw my weapon I realise I'm lost in one of my daydreams again. I quickly snap out of it at the sight of them leaving and I give it the ‘all or nothing’ treatment. “Hey erm…” I say to grab her attention as my brain pasted a few words together. “So can I get your number in case I need some advice on a ‘girly’ card?”. She smiles and asks “and who would this card be for?”. This is good, she’s prying. I answer back accordingly “My sister or mum…..or nan”. “Tell you what…” she says, “I'll give you my number ONLY if my sister says it’s ok” She turns to her sister “ what do you think? Should I give him my number?”. Now I'm telling you, I would need to build myself a brick wall to hide my facial expression that is clearly saying WHAT THE HELL!!! HOW COULD SHE ASK HER SISTER!!! MY NEMISIS!! THE GIRL WHO BLATANTLY HATES MY GUTS!!! THATS LIKE SOMEONE ASKING LEX LUTHOR IF HE LIKES SUPERMAN!! LIKE ASKING A CHICKEN IF THEY SHOULD GO TO NANDOS FOR DINNER!! LIKE ASKING UMA THURMAN TO ATTEND BILLS FUNERAL AFTER SHE KILLS HIM!!! I hesitantly look at the little girl in fear I might turn to stone. I widen my eyes and do my best ‘Puss in boots’ impression. At this stage its as if everyone in Sainsbury’s was awaiting the answer. The little girl looks at me and to my surprise I hear a very quiet “yea”. I LOVE THIS GIRL!!! SHE’S A LITTLE ANGEL!!! I JUST WANNA BUY HER AS MANY STRIPY CARDS AS SHE CAN CARRY!!!
A few minutes later I'm walking down an isle (no not in a tux…..I said a “few minutes later” what do you take me for…..I’m still in Sainsbury’s silly). I have a new entry in my phonebook and ‘my cure for cancer’ smile back on my face. Then i spot that little girl again as she grabs the last ‘Chicago Town’ pizza. I HATE THAT LITTLE GIRL!!!