Crooning on my STEREO: Por Que Te Vas by JAVIER ALVAREZ
You see, I AM A GOOD PERSON. I don't plot murders. I don't nick your lunch. I don't spike my enemy's drinks. I don't commit adultery. I don't sniff cocaine. And I don't run animals down on the road.
EVERYBODY KNOWS THAT.
I KNOW THAT TOO. The point is, karma NEVER reciprocates the slightest bit of my good will to granting me some GOOD LUCK with MEN. (and my acting career, too.)
THAT SUCKS. AND I AM COMPLAINING BIG TIME.
MAN CASE #1
Hot bloke asked me to meet him for lunch. I gleefully agree. So the date's set at 2pm. I set out at 1:30pm. Waited for the bus. There was a SNOWSTORM. My new dress was endorned with mud splashes. My hair was reduced to strangly bits of over-boiled pasta. And I got there at half two. Hot bloke wasn't impressed.
MAN CASE #2
Nice Boy set a date to meet me on HOLY GROUNDS (aka. Church) on a sunny and chirpy Sunday morning. Happily strolling out of my student home to the bus stop, I saw a sign. BUS SERVICES ON STRIKE. Nice Boy did not have a mobile. And I didn't make it to the holy mass.
MAN CASE #3
Met Cute Boy at the local chipper. Had a nice chat on Arsenal's Glory Days while waiting for our kebabs. As I took my mayonaise- drenched- chicken donor- delight from the chipper counter.... by all means of supernatural intervention, it SLIPPED out of my hands onto his workbag.
MAN CASE #4
I was walking with Sexy Boy across Tottenham Court Road. Happy Happy Joy Joy. Until my kitten heels decided to part with my soles as we took the pedestrian crossing. I limped back to my flat without a shoe. Pret A Manger patrons watched me in absolute delight. Sexy Boy never asked me out again.
MAN CASE #5
Recently I had the greatest blessing of sharing the lift with the ULTIMATE MAN OF MY DREAMS. We chatted. We parted. My hormones raged in teenage ecstasy. Shortly I met my reflection on the mirror. A massive blood-red lipstick stain was, all that while, engraved on my front tooth.
Fate can be such a total bitch.