Part 2: Name
So, this guy decides to decorate the pavement with his face. What do I do? I snigger, then I feel guilty and help him out. Evidently he heard my snigger (Or I wasn't hiding my grin very well, or at all) as he gave me one hell of a dirty look when I offered my hand. He did take it though.
"You ok?" I asked, definitely trying harder to keep a straight face. I even remember distinctly trying to look slightly concerned. Dunno if it worked, but it's the thought that counts. He nodded wordlessly and pushed past me, looking back at me like he thought I was gonna laugh at him as soon as he was turned away. The guy had a good intuition, that's all i'm gonna say. As he walked off, I start walking back where I was originally going, slightly more uplifted, when I saw a small little sparkle down on the ground near to a very, very white piece of cloth. I went over and picked it up, like the magpie I am, and noticed it was a small little gemstone with a lot of scratches and pockmarka. It was shimmering with a light yellow colour. I held it up to the sunlight to see it sparkle and promptly almost dropped it as a weird little shock made my hand spasm, like a very big version of a static shock. I tried this again a few times and the same thing happened, but the shock was getting weaker as I did it until there was no reaction. It almost didn't occur to me that the stone, now a duller colour than before, could have been the property of the guy who just fell over. However, he was gone now and I couldn't really be bothered to track him down.
Hey, don't look at me like that, it would have been too much of a hassle and I probably couldn't have found him anyway. He couldn't have gotten far, sure, but maybe he did? We'll never know.
I eventually get home and get changed into more casual clothes. That of jeans and a T-shirt I'd gotten on holiday in Lanzarote, one of the ones with highly immature sex jokes that only highly immature people buy. It featured a man and woman drawn like the little people used on bathroom signs enjoying each others company. Shuddup, I found it funny, I think I might still have it...
Anyway, I'm home and I tell Liz, and later my disappointed parents how the interview went. I got an earful and I just gave up and went upstairs to read, like normal. Now, when I say read, i'm not talking about anything of great quality. A long time ago, when I was but a young lad curious about the affairs of the heart, I once bought a cheap romance with the remainder of my pocket money and, well, never was anything so, honest. I'm telling you, Ramone taught me so much when I was 13. It's a wonder i'm still single. Ever since, i've been hooked, and it's a cheap hobby too. Ramone, Sylvester, Mr Harolds, all of them were idols of mine and still are to this day, anyone be damned if they say anything bad about those men. I realise, i'm ranting at this point, but romances, even cheap one, really are under-rated...
So, I go to sleep, never sparing another thought for the strange little curiosity still in my tux pocket.