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The only way to remember the name of a
physcially unattractive woman is to sleep with her.
It's not a waterproof approach, but the
prospects of remembering the woman's name are much brighter once
you've been inside her.
And Margot is a beautiful name to
remember.
The things you said about yourself were
painful to hear.
You would sigh and say: 'Life is fair
for no one, but it's the least fair for ugly women'
I hate the word 'ugly' and never use
it, never even think it.
It's my feeble attempt at not being
superficial.
Margot, you had an obession about your
abs. 'It's the one thing I have going for me', you said.
I couldn't agree. I don't care about
abs. Abs don't do 'it' for me.
I care about long hair, big eyes and
thies.
And, not as much as I should, but
still, I care a great deal about personality.
You had a lot of that going for you, if
you hadn't cut yourself down with every other sentence that sprang
from your pitifully pale and thin lips.
But you were fun. You were such fun to
hang out with. And you were a babe magnet. A real babe magnet.
We'd go places and you'd be chatting
with a ton of good-looking girls in an instant. Maybe you didn't pose
a threat to them, but no, that can't be it, you were simply that much
fun, let's leave at that.
And ok, at first I went out with you,
primarily for that magnet quality, but seriously, there were soon so
many times the best part out of a night out was when we were slumped
back in sacks used as chairs and talking about anything. You had a
sharp, quick-witted mind and you were amazingly well-read.
'Girls like me don't get asked out
between the age of 14 and 20. So I had plenty of time to do a hell of
a lot of reading.'
'What happened after 20?'
'I realized the stunning imbecility of
waiting around for guys to ask you out to start a social life. I only
had two dates in high school. One was with a guy who wanted to figure
out if he was gay. He thought he was after our date, but no. He
hooked up with the girl next door a week later.'
'And the second?'
'The second really was gay.'
I don't really know why I waited till
then, but I kissed you. Right smack on those near invisible lips,
which seemed to have developed attractiveness out of, well, thin air.
'Is this going to be a pity fuck?', you
asked.
Talk of kill the mood...
'No,' I said, 'I really think you're
hot.'
And you really were hot. Not in a
beauty magazine kind of way. But who in a right mind cares about
those?
I saw it. Right that instant I took in
your beauty. And the old rock and roll of attraction found its
devious rhythm.
And we could have been great together.
We really couldn't have been something.
If it hadn't been for streets.
There are a lot of streets in this
world.
And couples walk those streets and get
stared at.
And I saw your beauty. But the others
wouldn't.
Evil others.
Evil me.
I never deserved a slap more than the
one you gave me when you walked out on me.
And the truth is that I miss your
unique look. It's not that you were unattractive, it's just that you
were totally different.
A bit like a sinewy Viking woman with
droopy eyes and an albino complexion.
Magically attractive at fifth or sixth
glance.
If only there hadn't been streets.
Ok, you're welcome to give me an other
slap now.
09-09-2011 om 00:57
geschreven door Tederdraads 
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