Muse. Ramble. Rant. Repeat

Don’t Fall for the Ninja Tricks of a Boy in Uniform.

(Alternative Title: When Chi reads this she’ll spit out her coffee and laugh and laugh and laugh)

In high school there was this boy. Let’s call him John.

John was an average looking fellow. Tall, blond, blue eyes. Nothing spectacular, nothing revolting…. until you got to know him. He considered himself a ladies’ man and would take any opportunity to hit on any woman he found attractive. Which was every woman. He was the type of boy that makes you shudder with his persistence. You know the type I’m talking about.

He spent the better part of grade 11 trying to convince Chi to go out with him. She refused. She had standards and didn’t mess with boys who didn’t. I, her best friend and closet confidant, made fun of her mercilessly about this until he stopped (which was because a friend of ours called him out for being a man-whore with no hope in hell of bedding the prettiest girl in class… in front of the entire class… BTW, JP your bitchiness was always awesome as long as it wasn’t directed at me).

A few years later in university when Lady and I met and became the coolest kids in our program we would talk about boys. We shared a mutual love of douche bags although I preferred hockey players and she preferred boys with criminal records. In second year Lady went on and on about this boy from high school who had become more attractive but was still sleazy. She even had a mild crush on this boy for a while. Once I found out who it was (John, naturally) I made fun of her mercilessly.

I should explain the phrase “I made fun of her mercilessly”. I’m a mean, sarcastic, funny person who loves to have fodder. Having anything that I can pick at until it bleeds is fun for me (don’t worry, my friends are just like me). We all have those boys in our past that we’ll never escape – those lapses in judgement (thanks tequila) that will haunt us forever because we don’t let each other live it down.

(You know what’s coming right?)

So a few years go by again and we’re all grown up now. The other day I get pulled over while driving to meet a friend. The officer looks vaguely familiar but in a good-looking perhaps I made out with him in a previous life type of way. Our conversation goes something like this:

Cop: “Hello miss, just checking paperwork today, could I have your license, registration and insurance?”
Me: “Yup, here you go”
Cop: “Sorry to inconvenience you like this, you must be headed to work, do you work at (local fashionable retail store)?”
Me: “Um, no… why would you say that?”
Cop: “Because you’re fashionably dressed”
Me: (confused about whether or not to be insulted or complimented)
Cop: “So where are you headed?”
Me: “Coffee with a girlfriend”
Cop: “At the place around the corner?”
Me: “Uh, yah”
Cop: “Ok, cool”

(I get a ticket for having expired insurance papers, although I do have insurance and can get rid of the ticket today).

A few minutes later at the coffee shop with my girlfriend the same cop shows up and waves at me. I just look away and ignore (I’m not in the habit of making friends with strange men).

 On Saturday night I relay this entire story to Lady– about my “hot” cop who hit on me. I’m feeling pretty good about being hit on while getting a ticket. I even say something like “If only I wasn’t taken, I totally would have hooked up with him!” and just as I’m about to laugh it off she’s all “But was it John(who had become a cop after school)? That sounds like something John would do, he’s sleazy like that”. And I’m all “No, I don’t fall for the tricks of douche bags.”

We checked the ticket. Signed on the bottom was “John”.

I am never living this down.


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