7 November, 2011
Every story has a villain.
Superman has Lex Luthor. Harry Potter has Voldermort. Batman has the Penguin, The Riddler, The Joker…come to think of it Batman’s a bit of a bad example when it comes to this.
I have no idea who the hell’s the villain in Twilight. I mean, at one point it’s that guy from the first one, then it’s that chick, then it’s that bunch of people and Dakota Fanning or something. I honestly have no idea.
I’ve read the damned books and I have no idea. Shameful and shocking admission, I know – but if you ever doubt your writing capacity, please read those books. I know monkeys which have written more complex literature with their fecal matter.
Honestly, just kill that Bella chick. Annoying as anything.
This is the story of how I met one of my villains. If there was a video game of my life, this infernal beast would surely be a boss battle. I guess it’s also a sad tale. It’s hilarious as well, or it was to me. Immediately after these events occurred I barreled over myself with LOLz.
I’ve been trying to diet. Just you know, avoiding horrific foods. Stay away from KFC, go for more leafy substances. This is mainly brought on from the fact that everyone in this country is either (a) incredibly fit or (b) incredibly slim. I am possibly the most obese person in this country. If the Netherlands was that island from ‘Lord of the Flies’ I would be Pigsy, or whatever the kid’s name was. Point is: he is fat and *spoiler* gets crushed by a giant boulder.
Moral of the story: being fat is neither good for your (a) name and (b) ability to avoid being crushed by giant boulders.
In the hope that I could avoid this fate, as well as being less likely to be the first eaten when society dissolves into a cannibalised rampage, I decided to buy a sandwich and like a tiny tiny pizzaish thing from the little takeaway shop on the corner of the street.
I could have eaten anywhere really. I could have sat down in the gutter (despite most probably being destroyed by a bike) and eaten my meal. I had to check facebook though. I had to. I wanted to chat with Neil and discuss the many problems in his life. I wanted to see if anyone had responded to my numerous inquisitive emails after the GUSLA elections. I wanted to see if anyone had written on my wall, whether anyone had poked me back, whether Whoopi had uploaded another video to facebook.
Yes, she has her own facebook page. Yes, she uploads exclusive videos for her facebook fans. She often mentions her cat. She adopted her cat. Because she’s practically Mother Teresa.
There’s only one place to get the best free Wi-Fi.
The golden arches called me closer. No one could possibly catch me. I’ll just fold my sandwich up in my arms, quickly go upstairs.
No one will even notice.
No one will even care.
Just be hasty. All will be fine…
Everything was not fine.
I had made it in okay. It was fairly busy, so there was little chance anyone was going to spot me. I took two steps up the stairs when suddenly he appeared.
I have absolutely no idea who this guy was. He did not work for McDonalds, or at least he wasn’t wearing a uniform. Maybe he was an undercover McDonalds worker. Maybe they pay him an exorbitant amount of money to parole restaurants waiting for people who try and steal their Wi-Fi. But zomfg. He noticed me.
*GIANT LOUD CRAZY DUTCH*
At first I kept on climbing the stairs. No way someone could have caught me.
He was coming closer now. Some late 30s-40 something in a turtle-neck. He was going INSANE. It was like I was smoking in Church.
At this point I clearly realised that I was in trouble.
*CRAZY DUTCH LOUD SPEAK*
Choose words of wisdom, Dale – let them come from your heart and soul.
*DUTCH SPEAK CONTINUES*
‘I don’t understand you.’
At this point, onlookers were aplenty. I can only imagine this man was calling me many curse words. I was the devil. How dare I bring a fresh sandwich into McDonalds. He was obviously disgusted by the lack of transfats.
Somewhere, deep inside his mind, he realised I didn’t speak Dutch. I don’t know how he could have avoided it up till this point in the pleasant conversation.
‘What do you think you’re doing?!?!?!’
He was perplexed. I was threatening the natural order of things. I had to be corrected.
‘I’m about to go and get a seat.’
‘Why you bring this here, why you bring this other food here’
‘You can’t bring other here’
‘I am going to go upstairs, put my bag down and order.’
At this revelation, he was shocked once more. I was doing everything in reverse. His brain was shutting down, the chemicals slowly dissolving his frontal lobes. He was dying inside.
He sighed so slightly. He was embarrassed, no doubt. I stomped up the stairs, shaking my head as I found a seat and retrieved my wallet.
In all fairness – I was going to buy something. I went to the counter and ordered a coke, then devoured my sandwich and of course served the webs thanks to Macca’s Wi-Fi.
I think what I learned was that we all have our own little special places, for some people its their computer room, their study place, their moot court – for others it’s their bed, local pub, brothel, casino, coffeeshop, KFC or McDonalds.
I think mine might be Facebook.
I think that guy should be employed by McDonalds in at least some respect. He was by far the craziest person I have interacted with in quite a while. So much for the whole Dutch relaxed ‘live and let live’ attitude. Crazy mofo.
But don’t get me wrong. I will do it again.
I will yank the Wi-Fi right out from under their faces. I am a criminal. A devil without a cause.
The only question is whether this hell hound of a man will dare to stand in my way?