My mum thinks I’m a lesbian. (Nice one Ginge, a definite PB on the catchy first liner front). I'm just throwing it out there, in the vague hope that I'm not the only girl who's had this conversation:
Mum: Who's that texting you?
Me: Oh it's just *Insert Boy's Name*
Mum: (ATTENTION: We have reports of a boys name coming in from Audio. I repeat: boys name detected in Audio. This is not a drill. Activating 'cool and breezy' speech filters)
I see... And is this, *IBN*... a 'special friend'?
Me: (ATTENTION: you have just been exposed to the term 'special friend'. Make sure there is no chance of you being sick before commencing speech)
He's just a friend.
Mum: Oh. Any other 'special boy friends' I should know about?
Me: No
Mum: Or 'special girl friends'?
Me: No
Mum: It's fine with me if there were.. you know..
Me: Mum, not having a boyfriend does not make you a lesbian..
Mum: I know! I'm just saying! It's fine if you are.
Me: I'm not a lesbian.
Mum: Ok. ..But it's fine if you are.
This ghastly conversation likes to crop up every once in a while, and unfortunately will continue to do so for a while longer because even though I'm 22 and University failed to find me a husband, (it did get me a nice, shiny, degree though, so not a complete waste of time) I'm still in no rush to couple off.
It probably doesn't help that I maybe haven't got the best track record when it comes to being 'wooed'.
Now boys, I can't imagine how excruciating it must be; the pressure of approaching a girl and trying to capture her attention with a single line that could, potentially, be repeated over and over in years to come to your friends and family (and hers) in what will become known as 'the official story of the first time you met your dearest, loving spouse'.
Just thinking about it makes me want to scratch myself.
So when an eligible gentleman approaches, I am fully aware that this maybe, probably, almost definitely won't be, the smoothest moment of his life. I'm not going to hold this against him, I like to keep an open mind.
The thing is, there's being open minded and then there's this cavalcade of no:
‘Most guys wouldn’t.. I’m not most guys'. (A romantic response to my lustrous gingerness).
Ahh the old back
handed compliment; knock her self esteem and then give her a glimmer of comfort. A
classic tactic and nicely played. Good effort my lovely, most girls would reward you for it.
Moral: .. I’m not
most girls.
‘You look about 14 but you’re actually legal- you’re like a
paedophile’s dream!' (Yes, really). 'A. Paedophile's. Dream'. A hideous example of what can happen when
the back handed compliment gets into the wrong hands.
Moral: Where possible, try not to mention sex offenders. It frightens us.
'I've just studied the fallopian tubes in Medicine- I could never be girl, I don't know how you do it.' (Again, yes really). If the only common ground you can find to talk about is the female reproductive system, your relationship is a sham.
Moral: Fallopian tubes aren't sexy.
Moral: Fallopian tubes aren't sexy.
‘Are you open to Glaswegians?’ Haha, oof well aren’t you a
cheeky- hang on, is this still harmless banter or was that an expression of genuine
concern? Like when a doctor asks me if I'm allergic to penicillin.. I.e. ‘This
has been an issue enough times that we’ve had to put it in our standard list of
questions for everyone.. It’s a thing’. Is Glaswegians a thing? Have I been recklessly
exposing myself all these years? No wait! I lived with a girl from Glasgow, she
was just the same as everyone else. Ha, nice
try laddyboy... Thanks for making me momentarily racist.
Moral: I wasn't racist before you started talking. This is your fault.
‘I love your hair, it reminds me of when my mother used to
make me..’ Switch to inexplicable French
accent, take (my) hand & bite finger really, really hard
‘.. zee ginger cookieez..'
Moral: Just don't do any of that.
On second thoughts it might just be easier to become a lesbian Xx
