We’ve got a love that can never be, an impossible dream…but If only they could see….that you’re boooootiful….to me.

As a young teen I was a slightly awkward bum-nugget of a boy… with my curly brown hair straggling in the way of my tortoiseshell jam jar NHS specs that were so thick, if you looked at me directly you could see right through my head. I walked with a gangly stride yet sported a gelatinous pot belly that made me look as if I already had a healthy 10 pint-a-night Stella habit.

I was understandably unpopular, and none of my other school chums considered me to be any sort of threat as our hormones began to collectively burst from the sanctity of our scrotes and went on the prowl for girls.

My school days rolled on as uneventfully as this QOTW.

But one wonderful day all of that changed…A new girl started school. I saw her, and I was entranced…captivated.

Her name was Ermintrude (or Trudy for short), and her face radiated beauty…from the wart on her chin that looked suspiciously like Russ Abbot; to the Calligraphy style self-carved tattoo on her forehead that said ‘SKINS’. It was like an angel had fallen from heaven. Although I knew she was way out of my league, I HAD to get her attention…

I was too shy to approach and speak to her outright – my 79 consecutive rejections from other girls that month and her insistence on the sole use of swearwords and cockney rhyming slang in conversation put pay to proper communication… the only way I could speak directly to her heart was in the time-honoured tradition of making her a mix tape.

I yearned to say so much, yet had so little space on the C15 I blagged from the tape deck of one of the school’s BBC Micros. I knew thieving was wrong, but I felt my adoration for Trudy held a higher purpose and was way more important than some little runt playing another game of ‘Planetoid’.

Knowing that the justice of lurve was on my side, I swiped the tape and sprinted home to my sister’s tape-to tape deck, all the while Trudy’s perfect image was burning into my eyes and brain like a fruits of the forest scented mace spray.

Money was tight in my house, so when I arrived home and gushed to my parents about my love for Ermintrude and my mix tape plan…they kindly allowed me use of 7 minutes of electricity - enough to record 2 songs…and this of course was at a sacrifice of my bedroom’s heat ration for the rest of the week. I hugged them both tightly for their generosity but realised that deep down, their charity showed they must have understood the intensity of my emotions.

I knew it was going to be worth it as I ventured into my sister’s room and heard my parents flick the power switch on…I had thought long and hard…what two tracks could I use to express my desire and passion, yet show her I was sensitive, tender, understanding to her needs and all-round charming company to be with? There was an almost infinite library to choose from…this could be the most important decision of my life…

I finally chose Ivor Biggun’s ‘I’m a wanker’ , and ‘Dolly Parton’s Tits’ by Roy Chubby Brown. I stand by my decision.

I couldn’t sleep that night as I rehearsed over and over what I was going to say as I handed the tape over…and each time I pictured the scene I could hear the theme from ‘Love Story’ playing in my head like a clichéd movie soundtrack as we ran into each other’s arms and I frantically tried to remove my Y-fronts using only my teeth

After what seemed like an eternity, I watched the fiery fingers of dawn start to stretch across the sky and pierce the inch thick glass of my spectacles. I knew my moment of truth would soon be upon me…

I can’t remember any of the journey to school – I was too focussed on the single matter that was going to shape my destiny.

I felt as if my heart was going to leap from my chest as I bumped into her at school the next day…well, to be more accurate she bumped into me – as her glass eye gave her limited vision on the left side (but I digress). I plucked up every ounce of courage in my body (which totalled about one ounce), as I picked myself up from the floor, tried to ignore the strange smell of methane, looked deeply into her good eye…and said….

“Erm, you can have this if you like, I…er…made it for you”

“Fuckin' Shabba!" (Shabba Ranks – Thanks) she retorted. She started to smile, and I noticed that three of her nine teeth were glistening with saliva mixed with black lipstick as she clasped the C15 in her huge chubby digits and waddled away…leaving me there…alone…open mouthed and confused.

As she turned the corner, I watched her pop the tape into her Walkman – she had one of the brand new ones, mind – it must have only been about 12 inches long and six inches wide.

It took almost 2 hours for me to find out what she thought of it.

I was sat on my own during break time with my head in my hands, contemplating a million different scenarios and how I would have to face up to yet another rejection when I suddenly felt a tongue pushing itself into my ear like a doped-up slug that had been dipped in treacle – it was one of the most romantic experiences of my life.

Then she spoke: “You’re fuckin’ fire (fire and ice – nice), wanna Donald?” (oh, you work it out)

I didn’t understand but nodded my head and trembled like a rabbit caught in the headlights. We arranged to meet after school. My life was complete.

I never bore witness to what happened later in the day but reports say Trudy skipped to her next class as if she was floating on air – joyously singing the tunes from the tape I had made. When the teacher asked her to stop, she refused and sang even louder…she was promptly sent to the headmaster’s office and defiantly sang her way through her disciplinary...

‘I’m a wanker, I’m a wanker’ she screeched at the top of her voice.

She was expelled on the spot. Her parents were called in and as they were informed of the school's decision, announced that they were going to move away from the area forever. The grim realisation hit home...not only that Trudy and I were never going to be, but that we would never see each other again…

With tears in her real eye, she ran out of the office. The teachers and her parents looked all over but couldn’t find her. As they left the building someone spotted her; stood on the top of the 9 storey technology block, screaming incoherent swears and dancing a jig with her Walkman on.

Then she jumped.

The last sound anybody heard from her was: ‘Cos they’re so big and soft and round…’

They put a bench with a little plaque in the crater she made.

I hope you now all know why this QOTW touched a nerve with me.

They say it’s better to have loved and lost than to never have loved at all? Well I can vouch for that…just those few fleeting moments with my Ermintrude can make up for a lifetime of being a lonely Pooflake.

Length?…9 storeys…weren't you paying attention?

Apologies for everything else and thanks to Frankspencer for the inspiration.
( Pooflake braces for an onslaught..., Wed 13 Feb 2008, 19:05, 8 replies)

Classic Pooflake
Nicely...
(Bicycle Repairman "you're also a bit of a wanker", Wed 13 Feb 2008, 19:43, closed)

absolutely beautiful
I was captivated and moved throughout. Even had a lump in my eye at the end.
The only thing puzzling me though, is what rhymes with Pleasance?

*chortle*

I fondly remember the *winkler* song
( Tourette's ( . )( . ) has a monkey hair in her fried egg, Wed 13 Feb 2008, 20:15, closed)

*Sob*
.. and I never knew you had experienced true love at such a young age and so fleeting the moment.
( girlinthehole, Wed 13 Feb 2008, 20:34, closed)

And here the lesson endeth...
on how to turn a shit QOTW into something approaching brilliance. Superb, PooFlake.
*Clicks*
( Duke Of Belmsford has got 99 records, but Jay-Z ain't one, Wed 13 Feb 2008, 20:36, closed)

Soup Herb!
*click*
( Devil_In_Tights the *real* DiT!, Thu 14 Feb 2008, 9:48, closed)

I think it's a case...

Of too little, too late, posted at the wrong time...

It did give me the chance to use the lyrics of 'Bernard' in the title though, and for that I can be satisfied
( Pooflake braces for an onslaught..., Thu 14 Feb 2008, 10:23, closed)

...
That made my day!
( Enzyme is powered by sunlight, Thu 14 Feb 2008, 10:38, closed)

Whaddya mean
You WERE an awkward bum-nugget!
(Captain Placid 24/7 ball gags, brownie mix and clown porn, Thu 14 Feb 2008, 11:14, closed)