What was I thinking.
I was 13 years old. It was New Years Day. My folks always went to my Uncles for a party that evening. I loved these occasions, I got to stay up late, talk to my older cousins (which instantly made me feel cool and erudite) and take some records to play.

But this year was to be different. SHE was there. A neighbour's daughter. My Uncle immediately sensed my awkward fascination and kindly introduced me to the warmest most beautiful smile in the universe. I was in love. For hours we talked and laughed, oblivious to the dull grey world around us. She was incredible. A teen Aphrodite. A wildfire had been lit. We had everything in common. Where had she been all my 13 years? It turned out she was 15 (older woman, I could handle that) and a teen model no less who’d been on the cover of magazines! My head was swimming. I felt like I had pulled Heidi Klum. Still trying to impress I was working my way through the few crappy records I had brought, then I pulled out my ace card… Relax by Frankie Goes to Hollywood, oh yes! Now to be fair this requires some backstory...

I had first seen Frankie Goes to Hollywood perform Relax on the Tube earlier that year. I loved it. When the single was first released it didn’t do much but for months I had been championing this track as THE BEST THING EVER RECORDED. This was long before the ensuing controversy and radio ban. As far as I was concerned it was underground, I was a visionary, an auteur. I alone had made them.

She loved it, we bonded even further, I was dizzy, discombobulated. We would be together forever. A love like ours would never ever die. But, eventually she had to leave. Like a gleaming knight I rose to the challenge to walk her (the few hundred yards) to her house. We kissed, the stars shone brighter, angels sang. I took her number and called the following day. We arranged to meet that Saturday at midday, outside the Virgin record store on Renfield Street in Glasgow.

After a few millennia Saturday came. Like most teenagers I was going through a phase of trying to look 'different'. I had planned my outfit days before. To make matter worse this was also the early eighties and styles were, well, a bit shit. To put the tin lid on it, my Mum had also sprung it on me I had to look after my 8 year old sister that day.

Never-the-less I arrived on time. The January sales were in full swing, the street rammed with shoppers. There I stood resolute, proud, erect (yes quite possibly that way too) being jostled by shoppers on that fateful, crisp winter's day. She was 15 minutes late. No worries. Then an hour passed. Still I stood there expectantly, full of hope and joy and dreams of our future.

Now, I don’t know if this proposed mother to be of my children simply stood me up, but looking back, I reckon this is a far more likely scenario…

She got off the bus that stopped right outside the store, took one look at this spotty teen (with bored a 8 year old girl in tow) sporting a wispy bum fluff moustache, a shiny grey suit complete with red leather bow tie and a carnation, yes, a fucking carnation! Then, like any right minded individual quietly slipped back into the crowd and FUCKED RIGHT OFF.

What the fuck was I thinking.
( spimf ™ is whoever you want him to be, Tue 8 Jan 2013, 14:45, 19 replies)

This to win.
Awesome. I was thankfully just a little too young for most of the 80s to give much of a toss what I looked like. By the time I'd got to fashion it was all caps on backwards, open DMs, and lumberjack shirts tied round your waist, which was far cooler, I'm sure you'll agree*.


*May contain hope
( Je suis un vagabond is an unfunny, up your own arse middle class knob, Tue 8 Jan 2013, 14:53, closed)

Only if you wanted to come on Eileen

( Ghoti Fingers, Tue 8 Jan 2013, 20:39, closed)

Win

(TheManWithThePlan cussed your mum on, Tue 8 Jan 2013, 15:04, closed)

win for the utter winsome-ness of it all
delightful
(justin(e), Wed 9 Jan 2013, 4:58, closed)

This is fucking hilarious.

( Monty Boyce, My cheese game is strong, Tue 8 Jan 2013, 15:06, closed)

Excellent work sir...

Clicks aplenty!
( Pooflake braces for an onslaught..., Tue 8 Jan 2013, 15:13, closed)

I feel your pain.
I was in the same boat, curse the eighties fashion!
(SpangoTheWonderBadger is brewing beer, Tue 8 Jan 2013, 15:16, closed)

^What them girls said^
Top notch postage!
( The Mock Turtle ™ --- Thinks you are a cunt, on, Tue 8 Jan 2013, 15:36, closed)

When I was a kid in the 80s it was all neon colours and bermuda shorts
I remember a time when my neon bermuda shorts were the only thing about me that impressed the object of my pre-adolescent affections...or she may have been taking the piss. Didn't work either way.
( emvee cruor deo cruoris, Tue 8 Jan 2013, 16:10, closed)

It was for the best
Some girls are too good to be true.
( sandettie light vessel automatic New Twitter - @bollocksreally, Tue 8 Jan 2013, 16:15, closed)

Some girls aren't even girls.

(Elephant Balderdash attempting to bottle the absurd, Tue 8 Jan 2013, 16:22, closed)

Oh man I miss Thailand.

( Monty Boyce, My cheese game is strong, Tue 8 Jan 2013, 16:44, closed)

Some girls are bigger than others
/80s
(McChinaman banned, Wed 9 Jan 2013, 7:30, closed)

That, in my experience, is the counterpart of 'shy bairns get nowt'.
(cs1ca, Wed 9 Jan 2013, 0:12, closed)

Like this a lot!
You ever wonder what would've happened if she hadn't walked away?
(Captain Placid 24/7 ball gags, brownie mix and clown porn, Tue 8 Jan 2013, 16:30, closed)

She'd probably still be in my cellar

( spimf ™ is whoever you want him to be, Wed 9 Jan 2013, 20:11, closed)

I would have laughed at you too
from my Grifter, wearing my suede pixie boots.

Yup, that's what I said. Problem?
(username failed moderation, Tue 8 Jan 2013, 16:34, closed)

Oh dear.
I'd forgotten about those.
( Monty Boyce, My cheese game is strong, Tue 8 Jan 2013, 16:45, closed)

Yes I had both of them too

( spimf ™ is whoever you want him to be, Wed 9 Jan 2013, 20:12, closed)

Don't worry. We've all been there.
The Virgin Megastore, I mean, but in my day it as on Renfield Street, not Buchanan Street.

Oh, and thanks a bunch for making me remember some of the clothes I wore to impress in my teens. You bastard. You utter, utter, bastard.
(ubergeekian, Tue 8 Jan 2013, 17:37, closed)

your right it was Renfield Street, just up from the famous Boots knockback corner
i shall edit
( spimf ™ is whoever you want him to be, Tue 8 Jan 2013, 17:44, closed)

Unless
she was waiting at the other one?
(salvadorevincent, Thu 10 Jan 2013, 15:59, closed)

possibly, but they are about 1 mile and 25 years apart
but i might still pop down later, with middle my aged sister
( spimf ™ is whoever you want him to be, Thu 10 Jan 2013, 16:09, closed)

A teenage boy who plans his outfit for days?
You ARE Gok Wan AICMFP
(Barnetboy, Tue 8 Jan 2013, 17:47, closed)

At that age, anything so long as it's black is the order of the day.
For a splash of colour, I'd have added my 2nd hand lumberjack shirt, or perhaps a parent-baiting Ren & Stumpy t-shirt.

Simpler times...
( monster munch person, man, woman... camera... TV?, Tue 8 Jan 2013, 18:14, closed)

I'm laughing at you, not with you, here.

( Amorous Badger NAKED BEA ARTHUR PHOTOS 4U, Tue 8 Jan 2013, 17:59, closed)

That's understandable
But I'd be grateful if you could edit your commas appropriately.
( spimf ™ is whoever you want him to be, Tue 8 Jan 2013, 21:16, closed)

Great story!
Sounds like of those memories that resurface and make you cringe.
( Ken Oath, Tue 8 Jan 2013, 20:55, closed)

I had much the same story
except she was stupid, a bit homely, and my pals had assured me she was the neighbourhood bicycle.
And she stood me up.
God, the anguish and the shame.
(the other guy not the one that gave you coochie warts, Tue 8 Jan 2013, 23:50, closed)