Ballad of the Unfulfilled

I wrote this narrative to clue the girls downstairs in on what was going on between Andrew and the girl next door. I thought you might like it. Any similarities between characters in this story and people in real life, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. No animals were harmed in the posting of this story.

Ballad of the Unfulfilled

The tale of Andrew Thatcher and girl next door

(Written in loving tribute to Scottie Klein)

“. . .” she said.

Our strapping young hero had just asked her a question, and her answer startled him. He was expecting something, anything that would clue him in to her feelings. With no revelation in sight, he decided to try a different tactic.

“What about Chili's?” He probed further.

“...” was all that she said.

In an effort to determine where she wanted to eat, he was boldly and desperately engaging all of his faculties. Distracted by a gnawing paper-cut wound that threatened to become infected and cost him his entire arm, he knew that making a decision quickly was of the essence. With a sly smile, he decided to do the same thing to her that he did to the old folks at the care center.

“Oh, you like Chili's? Great! Let's go!”

She hadn't said it. But she hadn't argued with it either. He knew that this line of dealing with her couldn't end well. But he was desperate. Our hero had a gnawing paper-cut wound, after all.

With a happy heart he whisked her off to Chili's where they dined and enjoyed themselves. Our hero happily noted that he was one step closer to following the council of his priesthood leaders to “Get married! Now! Don't wait!”

As they traversed the long distance from Chili's to Brad's borrowed car in the parking lot, a ferocious dragon leapt out and barred their path. The dragon, despite its terrorizing stature, was indeed a thing of pulchritude. His name, in fact, was Pulchridude the Dragon. The hero, wincing in pain from his still bleeding paper-cut wound, slew the dragon with a clever brandish of his Chili's receipt. “That which threatens my life has just ended yours, heathen-beast. Let this day forever be remembered as the day that I slew Pulchridude the Dragon with a receipt from Chili's that offers me a chance to win $1000 if I complete a survey. How's that for romantic, fair maiden from next door?”

“...” came her response.

Later, as they sat in the twilight of Apartment 36 without the open-sign on, our bold hero casually slid his unwounded and therefore more attractive hand towards hers on the couch. He slyly studied her body expressions, hoping to notice whether or not she appreciated this casual sliding of his unwounded and therefore more attractive hand towards hers on the couch. With nary a change in demeanor, she sat on the couch in the twilight of apartment 36 without the open-sign on, as if to say with her composure, “...”.

What seemed an eternity later, nothing had changed. Dissatisfied with his repeated failures to determine her true feelings, he finally asked the bold question. “Fair maiden from next door, may I hold your dainty hand?”

“...”

He waited. He wasn't sure if she had offered an answer and then stopped, like this: “...”, or whether she had started answering and just wasn't done yet, like this: “.............................., …................................, …......, …........, …..............................................”.

He considered the implications of pulling an old-folks home on her. He could probably just go for it, and then tell all of his friends that it had been a success. As he settled himself to a reality of simply pretending his future eternal companion agrees to everything he says, he was haunted by the ghost of Norm. In haunting fashion, as haunting ghosts are wont to do, Norm warned our hero of the treacherous path he was treading. Our hero made a vow to Norm that he would never perform such a heinous crime. Norm quickly forgot the vow and became distracted.

As the hero dropped the fair maiden from next door off at her house, he felt like a big man. He hadn't been a dirtbag, and therefore the date was not an epic failure. He said his hasty goodbye and ran up the stairs and ended the twilight of apartment 36 by turning the open sign back on. As he turned his back on the fair maiden from next door, he could swear he still heard her voice echoing on the wind, “...”