Silly Girl

She’d always been like it and as she got older people didn’t seem to notice as much, or they just didn’t say anything. As a kid all the children used to call her “weird”, but Deborah was always comforted when she heard her mum say to others “that’s just the way she is”.

It was Saturday the 1st of October. Winter, thought Deborah, so I’ll have to wear a jacket, she decided when she woke that morning before climbing out of bed on the left side making sure her right foot touched the floor first. Today was the day of the big date.

For some reason she’d always gained a lot of attention from men; even if women did hate her, men seemed to like her. She could never figure out quite why though. A friend had once told her it was something about keeping them waiting-being hard to get and having a sense of mystery about her. This friend also noticed that she wasn’t a follower. ‘You don’t like being lead around like a dog on dates Deborah, men like that, it shows independence. Makes you a bit mysterious as well’. She found it funny that some men might think this about her. Most of the time this sense of mystery slapped across her face was really just the expression of someone wondering whether or not they had closed the front door properly.

Bill was the guy she was going to meet tonight, a nice chap, she thought when she was introduced to him by a mutual friend. He didn’t smile much when they first met, but she found nothing wrong with that. People were always asking Bill at his work ‘what’s wrong with you? Smile!’ He didn’t know why. People just assumed he was sad because he wasn’t constantly juggling and making balloon animals. Someone did once tell him to make a balloon animal shaped like a gorilla, ‘it would match your hairy hands and feet’ they had said; a sore subject and something Bill was slightly self-conscious about.

Before the sun went down and night showed its face Deborah had a few things she had to take care of-run some errands. She was supposed to leave the flat at 1pm, but had to make sure all her DVD cases were facing upright and aligned properly-that all her hangers with clothes on were facing the same direction-her toothbrush was positioned at a 45 degree angle facing away from the mirror-that all the lights were off with windows shut and check that the back door was locked 6 times before leaving the house. She was running a little late.

Out she ventured wearing an overly thick coat on this unprecedented hot day. It shouldn’t be this hot for the month of October pondered Deborah. As she walked down the road making sure to step on the right side of every lamp post, she came to her first pedestrian crossing. There weren’t any cars coming but she waited, as she always did, for the green man to show. Deborah always had a feeling like a double decker bus would come out of nowhere and strike her down if she crossed when the red man was there; and it would be all her fault because she hadn’t followed the rules.

She waited, for longer than most do, because she had a thing about not pressing the buttons on pedestrian crossings. She had once witnessed a drunk tramp attempting to press one for a good minute, smearing his dirty hand all across the panel. Since then, she didn’t touch them.

As she waited, a young man wearing shorts and t-shirt came next to her and turned his head in her direction. She could feel his eyes burning a hole in her head. ‘Hot enough in there for ya?’ asked the man, before letting out a massively over indulgent cry of laughter. Deborah gave him a blank look in response. She hated it when people laughed at their own jokes and was glad when he crossed on his own. The green man appeared.

Arriving at the chemist to get her things, Deborah stepped into the store with her right foot first. She grabbed what she needed and started to wait in line to pay for the goods. A man in front of her was paying by card and waiting patiently for his receipt to be printed out. He grabbed his things and turned round to face Deborah. He had a little smile on his face as he stuffed the receipt into his wallet. ‘It’s funny ain’t it? The more you spend the bigger your wallet gets’. She wondered why he was even talking to her but answered back ‘don’t worry, you can spend it all at Christmas’. The man looked at her with the same smile, ‘what?’

Oh no, thought Deborah, she’d assumed he’d made a joke about having too much money, hence she’d made hers in reply only now realising it made no sense. But there was still time to think of a witty reply and save herself form being swallowed up into a hole in the ground. ‘At Christmas, you’ll have a lot more of them, enjoy it now while it’s not too bad’. He giggled. Not bad, thought Deborah.

She walked out of the shop and noticed she had forgotten to pick up her own receipt. However, she couldn’t walk back into the shop after she had left, one of the many habits she’d picked up which gave way to her earning the nick name “Crazy Deb”. Outside she saw the same man whom she had felt slightly awkward around not 1 minute earlier. As she walked passed with her head down she realised there was no need to feel insecure around this man- he was wearing socks with sandals!

The date was only a few hours away. Deborah irons her things, curls her hair and puts her make up on. Then she does the important things-makes sure the towels in the bathroom are not touching the floor-that the cupboard doors are all shut and that the back door is locked, 6 times. It was surely these things that led to her arriving late. ‘Keeping me waiting, I like that’ said Bill to his friend on the phone as he waited for her to arrive. When she did arrive, in her massive coat, Bill made a comment about not knowing they were going to the North Pole then let out a fit of laughter, Deborah was not impressed.

He seemed like a nice guy, he had even done a lot of travelling. Deborah was looking at his pictures from South East Asia and was impressed until she caught one of him wearing socks with sandals; she almost threw up onto the plate of food in front of her.

When leaving the restaurant they walked to the crossing and Bill pressed the button to signal the green man, Deborah cringed as he did so. No green man, but no cars, so Bill ventured across carrying on the conversation they were just having. He was very embarrassed when he looked round and saw Deborah standing on the other side of the road realising he had been talking to himself. She’s going to think I’m a weirdo for talking to myself like that he thought. When the green man did show Deborah thought, he’s going to think I’m a weirdo for not crossing with him.

When they were reunited Bill subtly thought, independent girl, not following me like a puppy, I like that; while Deborah thought, he doesn’t talk much does he.

Eventually they came to the coffee house where Bill takes all his lady friends and they carried on talking about something or other. Bill thinks it going well, Deborah can’t get the sandals out of her brain and nearly throttles him when he laughs at another one of his own jokes.

Apart from this she thinks he’s alright. Bill senses a moment and slowly reaches his hand over to place it on hers. Deborah notices this advance and quickly moves her hand away, ahh! The tramp hand, that hand has been on the crossing button, what is he doing with that hand? keep it away from me!, panics Deborah in her thoughts. Bill’s self-esteem is shattered, she doesn’t want to be touched by these gorilla hands, he thinks.

The night is drawing in and Bill is becoming slowly fascinated with the mysterious look on Deborah’s face. Deborah is becoming slowly agitated, the clogs and bolts are turning over and over in her head, she’s starting to sweat, staring into space. Bill wants to tell her she looks beautiful but just as he opens his mouth Deborah jumps up out of the chair and exclaims ‘I got to go, I’ll call you’ with which she dashes out the coffee house. Bill sits there dumbfounded ‘bloody gorilla hands!’

Deborah dashes home as fast as she can, sweating in the heat wearing an overly large jacket. She’s nervous, what has happened? She gets to her flat, swings the door open, runs upstairs, over to the dresser-thank God, she thinks, ‘I did switch the curling iron off’.

It was a good date, she'd had a good time, but she can’t really go back into the coffee shop and rejoin her date, that’s just not crazy debs way.