Thursday, 2 February 2017

How a Gazelle Escaped the Jaws of an Inept Lion

God I screwed up and it’s the worst feeling. But sometimes you have to embrace your failures and not beat yourself up. I’ll tell you exactly what happened if you’re bored and want to escape the drudgery of your life. I’d headed into town to study at the local University. For some reason I changed places mixing it up from where I usually holed up to study. I guess I just wasn’t feeling the overcrowded humdrum of Auckland’s general library. That’s when I peered through a dirty window pane and what did I see but the most beautiful blonde headed woman you have ever seen. Her hair was the striking type of blonde you couldn’t buy off a poorly stocked supermarket shelf, she must’ve had roots in a Scandinavian country. As if guided like a puppet on a string devoid of free will I flew around the corner and took up a new residence in the new study room I had neglected all year. I set up a makeshift camp a few desks down from her trying to stealthy meld into the grey desk in front of me. 

There was not a distinguishing sound to be heard in the silent study room. Well except for my young heart drumming away at 180 bpm outside my body. It was as if my whole body groaned in worship at the feet of this flawless feminine figure. I was overcome and lost in crashing waves of love, desperately trying to swim toward solid land. However, as soon as my feet touched the soft sand of normality my vision became impaired as all I could see was perfectly tanned skin. In my watery delirium I had failed to realize the Scandinavian nymph had taken off her grey greenish blue hand knitted jersey exposing her toned rail thin dreamlike arms with a sprinkling of light freckles to my surprise. Having been cursed with a million freckles myself the speckled quality of her skin was almost too much. If anything I imagined she could understand me more. Her top was a light peach colour and her bra from what I saw was encrusted with lace while on her feet were pink laced purple sneakers worn from copious amounts of exercise. I almost don’t want to mention it but her glutus maximus was tightly clutched in black unbranded yoga pants. The way she also sat on her chair heavily accentuated the womanly curve of her hips and fullness of her ample rump. Blaring blue tie-die eyes shone forth from her head complimented by kind and caring features of nose and mouth that spoke of a rare and caring nature. All up the mere sight of such a woman could turn any man’s blood to boil without end perhaps even overcoming death itself. Even if the lowest fool locked eyes on this rare emerald diligently studying they would have diverted their eyes in fear. The great Michelangelo himself would have most certainly failed to carve her likeness into the finest of marble rock, the gods themselves being angered at such an act of hubris.

After recovering all of my senses like Perseus stoned before the treachery of Medusa I gathered all my wits and cunning education at my disposal and with Athena goddess of wisdom helping hand I drafted a fatal note to take this great beast down. Note in hand as she was leaving the room I earnestly prepared to attack and give this she-devil my note laced with poison and charms. However, instead of working the note recoiled in my hand sticking to my palm and burning my sensitive skin. In an instant my prey raced past me untouched and unhindered. Despair washed over me as I valiantly tried to fight the feeling that I was way out of my league. My comfort zone was lost in the land of the living while I teetered on the edge of distant realms where mortal and gods mingle and meet. To recover my spirits and return to the land of the living a retired and rekindled my body with a brief and light meal of cheese and bread, in which 'all enjoyed an equal share' although I ate alone. 

My self-respect, ego, masculinity all were bruised and damaged. I then rationalized to myself that the Gods may have sent me a blessing for surely the note was destined for disaster and not inevitable victory. How could a mortal a man ensnare the intoxicating image of Aphrodite herself with a hastily written note in a foreign mortal language? I then recalled a past calamity that had beset myself under similar circumstances. Years ago I had the arrogant audacity to hand deliver a cat card of all items to a woman. At the time it sounded and felt like a brilliant idea with a bulletproof chance of success. Oh how wrong I had been! As the girl who I had offered my entreaties of passion would turn and stare and mock me with her eyes and whisper hurtful comments to friends under her breath about me. If one could hate a woman this other woman I despised because I still desired her. Despite the fact that the cat-card woman had the most painful voice that made the high-pitched sound of nails scratching down a chalkboard sound appealing. I thought it rather funny how I would see her who had had jilted me with such marked satisfaction every now and then between large intervals at university. Evidenced by her face many years later she still found my failure a memorable episode worth remembering causing her to fall into uncontrollable fits of laughter as i walked past her. 

Thankfully many moons ago I had made the decision that it was better to remembered while incurring the burden of failure than being quickly forgotten without memory. However, this whole bad re-run had me smarter and less inclined to wander into the dangerous line of fire ill prepared. Still compared to the cat-card woman I came out by far the victor in the long run as puzzling it would’ve seemed to me at the time. This was due to the fact her boyfriend looked like under educated Gorilla who was obviously dim-witted and remarkably stupid. Even if it was to my own annoyance that the girl wedded to this monster still induced feelings of admiration and love in me at the mere sight of her complexion. I wonder if she ever realized how much more I could have loved her, how our souls may have danced together in a flaming celebration of existence, endless cat-cards raining down from the sky.

After recuperating after my meal I returned to my seat in the ornate study room. To my surprise the blonde girl was still to my side not far from me. To my unabashed surprise she even cast her eyes upon me looking at me with unnerving desire. I mentally slapped myself for not washing my hair that day. How I prayed to the God that the petite blonde was not just quizzically looking at my unkempt hair. To my dismay I hesitated in giving the blonde my note but knew it was a rather crap idea to win a woman of such quality with so little effort, it was utter madness, plus I preferred a long and drawn out hunt, and it was never a good idea to ruin your chances as soon as the quarry had been spotted in a murky concrete jungle. This didn’t stop me racing after her as she left the room. Thankfully I thought it best to let this jumping gazelle enjoy another day of life. This inept hunter of a lion was quite happy to try again, or even meet the same prey under more favourable conditions which just so happened to occur as fate would have it. Indeed the sparkling dragon would be slayed eventually.

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