Dearest Reader, welcome to you’re weekly dose of anti-hubris known as my dating life. If you’re joining us for the first time I suggest scrolling down to ‘Welcome Back Mr Ridley’ before naming conventions and I became friends.
I feel that to truly understand the wonder that is my dating career (see example image below), I have to take you back to before I was this heavy hitting dating machine*.
The year was 2003, and your humble narrator had not yet kissed a girl, let alone had a serious girlfriend. Unless you count that time in Year 6 where my fellow school captain dated me for the first few weeks of the year so I’d teach her how to set up the hall for assembly, I even made her a Valentine’s Day present (so topical), and when she broke up with me on February 13th, I promptly crossed her name out and wrote another girls name on her card, so if you couldn’t tell already, I had pretty strong game back then too. Anyway, back to the other horrible love story at hand.
Your doughy hero was undoubtedly a shy kid during my first few years of high school, I managed to fit in pretty well with everyone so I was kind of like a chameleon, fitting in with everyone without truly belonging to one particular clique.
That was until Ashleigh came onto the scene. She was so mean that I think I fell in love immediately, and this isn’t sour grapes, in high school Ashleigh was mean to everyone, even her best friends. She was model gorgeous, and tall:
In true High School Mr Ridley fashion I couldn’t bring myself to ask her out, so I would just hang around making an arse out of myself until she noticed me, and notice me she did! Upon her instruction we would conduct a secret affair, no one was to know, it would be our little secret! I know what you’re thinking, “Clearly Mr Ridley saw through that not-so-subtle ruse?” Nope. Our secret love affair was the most fulfilling three months of my 16 year old life. Even though she even made me delete messages we had sent to each other in case we were discovered, and discovered we were; although I’m sure it was similar in style and content to this classic:
After my first kiss and sexual experience, a sad handjob, for all you Cards Against Humanity fans out there, on the same day. It seemed our Spring Fling was coming to an end. It seems that our young Ashleigh was quite the social scientist, and (turn away from your computer if you don’t want to be depressed in 3… 2.. 1.) decided that she would attempt to see if she could ever bring herself to date someone way below her league, and apparently the answer to this burning question was, “no!”
So moral of this story is don’t date tall girls, I mean, girls who want to keep your relationship a secret. Unless it’s for a cool reason, like she’s a spy, and even then I’d probably find that hard to not blog about.
*I’m a horrendous liar.