DAILY PROMPT: IT’S FRIDAY, I’M IN LOVE
Remember your first crush? Think about that very first object of your affection. Oh, the sweaty palms. The swoony feeling in your stomach. Tell us the story of your first crush. What was it about this person that made your heart pound? Was the love requited? Change the names to protect the guilty or innocent if you must! No judgement here. Happy Valentine’s Day!
It’s Friday and I’m in love, or It’s Friday so I’m in love?
If it’s the first, then good luck to you: end of the working week, top night out, no worries. Good-time venues are set up to welcome you as on no other day.
If it’s the second, you might have a problem. What happens tomorrow when you wake up somewhere that isn’t your own bed, goggling at a face that has all the charm of cold suet pudding in the merciless light of no-longer-in-love Saturday morning?
Either way, I’m pretty much off the hook, here. Friday is long gone, and last night’s hot date with the telly is now history.
But then there’s the ‘crush’ thing. Hard and all as I’ve racked my brains, I can’t come up with a single one. I obviously wasn’t normal. I was, of course, incarcerated in an all-female environment during my crush years, and crushes on older girls didn’t float even a kayak, for me, never mind a boat – but is that any excuse? Should I have manufactured one for the sake of my mental health, let alone the all important factor of conformity?
We did have movies on alternate Saturday nights, but they weren’t notable for their crush-fodder either: funny old men making illegal whisky in the Outer Hebrides, tight-lipped British war heroes guaranteed to be dead by the final titles, or the occasional romance so pure that even the implications were implied.
So there you have it: crushless and loveless on Saturday. Bit of a failure all round, really.
Sorry about that.