One of my first big nights out on the town in Leeds was just before Halloween. Out I went with my friends, excitement was in the air... who knew what could happen that evening? You never know when a sexy model might hit on you at a bar. YOU NEVER KNOW.
Anyway, so there I was having fun, beer in my hand, when someone talks to me from behind. "Are you at uni then?"
I replied yes, turning to see a man in his fifties leaning very near to my face.
"I'm here on my son's stag" he said.
"Oh, cool, congratulations to him" I replied.
And then came the single most depressing line any man could ever hear from anyone, ever.
"You know, you could make me feel twenty years younger."
That's right. I never get hit on and when it FINALLY happens, he's too old and too penis-y.
But it gets better!
For some reason, wherever I go I manage to attract attention from the worst people in society, other than the killers and them lot, and that is the socially inept. The comic book nerds.
Now, I read comics, as I enjoy the stories, the art etc. Watchmen is my favorite book and film. HOWEVER, even though I know quite a bit about comics and the characters, I don't know the amount that most comic nerds know. And so I often find myself in awkward situations not knowing what to say to them as they talk about Invincible Iron Man issue 127 and how good the artwork was in it.
The other night I was at a bar with some friends and we were talking about the film of watchmen and I mentioned to them that I prefer the film of watchmen to the film of V for Vendetta, just as we were about to leave.
Out of nowhere came a man with long greasy tied back hair, a dirty looking beard, a metal t-shirt and a long leather jacket with big black boots: you know the type, it's the classic the-Matrix-when-they've-turned-40-and-let-themselves-go-a-bit look. And he said to me "Did you just say you prefer the film of watchmen to the graphic novel?"
"No" I said, truthfully.
And before we knew it we had entered a conversation which I didn't know much about and my friends knew even less about, in our coats, ready to leave, waiting for the opportune moment to escape the in depth comparative analysis of the characterization of Nite Owl and the Silk Spectre of the Graphic Novel and their counterparts in the film.
For some worrying reason unbeknown to me, I seem to attract these weirdos from miles apart. Why can't a pretty lady hit on me, JUST ONCE?
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