My Sister’s Goldfish-Obsessed Boyfriend
February 18th 2009 21:00
Photo by Lerdsuwa. Used in accordance with the terms of Wikimedia Commons’ GNU Free Documentation License, Version 1.2 or any later version published by the Free Software Foundation; with no Invariant Sections, no Front-Cover Texts, and no Back-Cover Texts.
Years ago, my sister started seeing this guy who was much older than her. He sounded like a sleaze so when he invited her over to his place for dinner, I decided to chaperone her.
We caught the train to North Sydney. I was feeling sick that day so I sat down outside the station. Suddenly, a pair of feet in dirty brown sandals appeared in front of me. I heard my sister start talking to someone. I looked up and realised the dirty brown sandals person was him.
He drove us over to his place. He made dinner for us. This sounded impressive until he told me he had bought two pizzas from the supermarket. I made myself comfortable on the lounge, waiting for something to happen. And then began one of the most boring conversationalists I have ever come across.
There was an enormous fish tank next to the TV. Inside it were dozens of goldfish. The guy started talking non-stop about goldfish. First, he told us about what he feeds them before moving on to how often he cleans the tank, what chemicals he puts in the water, what temperature he sets the tank at and so on. He went on and on like this for an hour. I didn’t even have the chance to ask questions or to subtly change the subject; the guy was content to continue in his monologue.
Needless to say, I was not impressed and I started to call him Loser.
“He was nervous,” said my sister. “He’s not normally like this. You didn’t give him a chance.”
“Yes, I did,” I said. “I gave him a chance and he blew it.”
Months later, my sister pleaded with me to give him another chance. So I did. We invited him over for a drink. But the same thing happened. Except this time, instead of talking about goldfish, it was adult movies. After that, I refused to have anything do with him.
“You didn’t give a chance,” complained my sister.
“Yes, I did. I gave him two big fat chances and he blew them big time. Big time, big time.”
My words soon became a song. I would sing, “He’s an L-O-S-E-R, loser, loser/He’s an L-O-S-E-R, loser, loser/I gave him a chance/And he blew it/He blew it big time/Big time, big time/He’s an L-O-S-E-R.”
It took my sister several years to realise what a creep he was. After a bitter break up, she now also calls him Loser.
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Comment by Kleonaptra
Kalikapsychosis
Comment by Queenie
Quirky Folk
Quirky Queenie
That's interesting to know. Mind you, this was ten years ago, when I wasn't as interested in animals as I am now. I certainly wasn't blogging then. Maybe if the same thing happened today I would be more interested. It would certainly give me some material for my blog.
Fish are expensive, though. My sister is a goldfish fanatic so she spends a lot of time ensuring their water is right and cleaning out their tank. She's very attached to them and swear they have their own personalities!
Comment by Kleonaptra
Kalikapsychosis