The shopping arrived this morning to find us both in. A rare thing indeed, as Carole will go out of her way to find a reason to be absent when the delivery arrives unless she is solely responsible for it.
“Oh no,” she said. “It’s the weird guy.”
Now, that is casting quite a wide net. But she was not wrong.
He showed us a tattoo which we would appreciate as we were both “nerdy nerds” – his words, not mine. It was a Pokemon, I can’t remember which. I knew that. Carole didn’t. We both feigned ignorance.
And he then gave us the full breakdown of which evolutionary stage it was and what region it came from. My favourite part, I think, was that he prefaced the whole thing with, “Well, it’s from a well-known video game series called Pokemon…”
We’re “nerdy nerds”, mate. We got this shit.
Where, though, did he get the nerd thing from? I mean, apart from looking at us – mainly me, Carole passes for normal. He only brings groceries to the door.
I suspect it’s the Doctor Who bookcase at the top of the stairs. He must have clocked that – or the last supper-esque Whovian artwork above it – and identified us as his people.
I’m not sure I want to be his people, though. He comes across as one of those who’d say, “In episode 23…” in the same sentence as “but in episode 39 you contradict this by…” These are not the people I want to associate with.
Like stuff by all means, get into all the lore and whatever else but just don’t be a bellend about it.
Like, I don’t know, giving a full Pokedex entry for your tattoo. Just get a more recognisable tattoo.