First 1205 Words of Chapter one · Nov 6, 02:40 AM by Scott McNulty
Unedited (though spell checked), not re-read, straight from my keyboard to this blog, I give you the first fruits of my writing labor.
You can tell a lot about a person from the blog software that they use. Call me shallow, but I won’t even consider having a relationship with anyone who maintains a Blogger blog. Using Blogger tells the world, ‘I don’t care enough about my work to find out more about blogs, so I thought I would just use this free crap that Google gives out.’
If you don’t care about your blog, how do you expect me to care about you?
A woman who has her own domain and has installed blogger software by herself is my ideal mate. That means she is savvy enough to know what she’s talking about but not so hardcore as to have written her own blogging software. Taking that lead of ‘rolling your own’ transmits to the world (and every man reading your blog), ‘You’re not good enough, so I had to create my own tool. If I could build a man from scratch I would, but since I can’t I am going to try and change you. First off, move your blog to my system. It is so much better than the crap system you’re using now.’
I don’t need anyone to try and change me; I’m happy with the way I am. If anything, I am the one who should be changing others because frankly I AM better than most people. Seriously.
If you haven’t guessed, I am single white male. A rare breed to be sure, but on the plus side I also happen to be fat. Few people will admit to themselves, or others, that they are indeed fat, but I can see the writing on the wall, if not my on feet. I’m a corpulent fellow, and I am not ashamed of it. I will gladly help myself to that third helping at the buffet because heck, you only live once and I want to taste everything before I die of a heart-attack at the young age of 45.
I can see it now. People will be weeping at my funeral, which won’t be a church because I am not all that sure about God. The way I see it, I stay out of his way and he stays out of mine. That arrangement has been working for awhile now and I see no reason to change it simply because I died. I mean that wouldn’t be every fair of me, to say to God, ‘Hang on there , Yahweh, I know we have been doing things a certain way now for lo these 45 year but now that my body is nothing but work food and I see that you do indeed exist, can’t we just pretend that I had faith all along? I bet Buddha would be cool with it.’
Untimely death aside, I haven’t always been single. I have had successful relationships in the past, at least they were successful for a certain period of time. Things went horribly awry. My most recent relationship ended after a little under 8 years which in and of itself is quite the accomplishment. I should have known it wasn’t meant to be. There were signs that the end was soon to be upon us but I’m not exactly the Sherlock Holmes of relationships. I’m more of a Helen Keller of love, I can’t see or hear but I am willing to learn.
I bet Helen Keller would have noticed these warning signs, but I was oblivious. At about the 6 year mark Ingrid and I were cuddling, as we often did, and she looked at me with a very serious look on her face. Now, you must know something about Ingrid, she was as happy go lucky as Scandinavians come. I think it must have been those long, dark Scandinavian winters; she was always up for a good time and a bit of a laugh. That was what first attracted me to her, plus she found me funny which is an absolute must if I am to seriously consider being involved with you (you might want to jot that down in the margins there, ladies. My contact information in on the back of this book, assuming that this has been bound and sold at your local bookseller where you, undoubtedly, picked it up by mistake while reaching for the latest by Diane Steele).
Ingrid looked at me, whilst we were engaged in some professional level cuddling and said, ‘I am not physically attracted to you any more.’
I had put on some weight, but this was a blow to my very flabby ego. Where the hell does Ingrid get off tell me she isn’t attracted to me? I’m the best thing that even happened to this self-obsessed harpy! I was the one that talked her down from her many stress attacks. I had sat through endless concerts (she was an oboe player) without complaint. I did everything that a good boyfriend was supposed to do, except have rock hard abs but in my defense I had no idea that was a requirement.
I responded, ‘Oh.’
After that little interlude our relationship continued on its course, towards an iceberg, but at the time I had no idea that our relationship was the Titanic and I was in steerage. I even went to the gym to try to buff up for Ingrid. After a few months I stopped going because the other members of the gym took up a petition banning me from wearing spandex in public.
Unfortunately that little dialogue was only one of the many encounters with Ingrid that should have made me question the foundations of our relationship. The second red flag happened the day that Ingrid moved in with me. I had been planning for weeks, straightening up my bachelor’s pad, making it Ingrid friendly (she had an intense phobia of paper machete, so I had to put all my pinatas in storage). We lugged all of her stuff up to my third floor walk up, not a mean task for a wisp of a Scandie and a fat fellow, but we soldiered on. As we surveyed her belonging strewn across my floor, no OUR floor, I smiled and thought that this was the beginning of something far bigger than myself. Ingrid looked like she was ready to cry, so I embraced her and assured her that this was the start of a grand adventure and that a trip to IHOP was in order to celebrate this momentous occasion.
At the mention of IHOP he burst into tears. We had met at an IHOP many years before. She was sitting at a table next to mine, and I had just run out of boysenberry syrup (i like to sip it right out of the container). She leaned over and said, “Would you like my jugs?” A moment right out of a Hallmark Channel special.
The tears were surely tears of joy since IHOP meant so much to both of us. She whipped her tears on my cardigan and looked me right in the eyes.
“I think I’m in love with someone else.”
“Well, you could have told me that before I carried all your crap up three flights of stairs.”
Awesome start – I love it! Keep going!!!
— julie Nov 6, 08:39 AM #
Loving it.
— Maura Nov 6, 09:14 AM #
Very engaging.
Take it easy on us “Blogger” users!
Couple of typos:
“worm food” not “work food,” “best thing that ever happened to that harpy,” not “even happened,” and “wiped her tears,” not “whipped.”
Just trying to help.
A very good start. First person isn’t my favorite, but by the end of this section I’m over it.
— Frat Boy Nov 6, 09:41 AM #
A great start! Can’t wait to see more.
— Dave Nov 6, 12:09 PM #
I believe it’s paper maché (and hey, I use Blogger too :-( !)
Anyway, afraid i’m just repeating what everyone else has already said. Great start! Very funny…loved the “Helen Keller of relationships”, I gotta use that sometime as I often find myself on the same boat (I’ll be quoting you of course, while I recommend them buying the book)
— Luna Nov 6, 12:58 PM #
This is great, very engaging and accessible. I like the “Helen Keller of relationships” line as well. Mildly harsh on us the blogger users, though!
— Marisa Nov 6, 10:59 PM #
I love the “Helen Keller” thing, too.
This story makes me glad that my blog isn’t a wussy “blogger” blog. ;) WWW … dot… W… W…
Keep it up!
— Thad Nov 7, 01:46 AM #
Great job, Scott! Keep it coming, it’s gonna be awesome.
And to defend myself, I set up a WordPress blog at PhillyWriters, but went with a Blogger blog for myself. I just couldn’t beat how easy it was.
— Karin Nov 8, 04:14 PM #
Scott, Very entertaining stuff. Feels autobiographical to me. Am I right? I like personal writing a lot, makes me feel like I know a person better. Anyway, I’ll be back. (I would have been here sooner if I’d realized it existed.)
— Melissa Jan 20, 02:17 AM #
The novel was going to center around a fictional me, though some of the content is thinly veiled autobiography. :)
— Scott Jan 20, 12:07 PM #