Read Online Dan Taylor Is Giving Up on Women by Neal Doran - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Neal Doran
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she puts it, she was vehemently certain the future of rock and roll was Ocean Colour Scene. She managed to change her mind on that.’
Rob stabbed the panel on his treadmill and upped his running pace to a point where breathing, never mind talking, was a challenge, but male pride meant I had to try and catch up. I accelerated and was soon matching pace for pace, which meant he went faster. So I went faster again, until we were both virtually sprinting. I managed a nod to the old ladies next to us, who looked back sympathetically at the wheezy young man having a hot flush.
As suddenly as he had started, Rob finished his sprint, thumping the stop button and levitating himself off the track with his arms. I hit stop too, but just slumped on the control panel as the mill slowed down, face resting on the cold plastic while the rubber under me dragged my feet backwards.
‘You know the main thing though, sport?’ asked Rob, closer to being his peppy usual self, as we trudged back to the changing-room showers. ‘I have a terrible responsibility now. Like the noble red Indian…’
‘Native American,’ I corrected.
‘Right, Tonto. Like the noble native American indigenous tribesman and casino magnate, I believe that saving someone’s life makes you responsible for protecting it in the future. And so I have to redouble our efforts to find the woman to make your life worth living. Or at least get you laid.’
‘You know, I’m still not sure about this,’ I told Rob as we battered life back into our limbs in the showers. ‘I tell you, I could be getting a lot of stuff done if I just avoided situations that leave me hugging myself in a foetal position of shame and embarrassment.’
‘Bollocks to that. The last thing anyone wants to see is you taking up knitting as a hobby. The only way to get you out of that foetal position is to get you into some more erotic ones. Oh, hi, Darren.’
Darren, one of the big body builders, spun on his heel and decided perhaps he’d wait for his shower until he got home.
‘But what if I’ve had all my luck? What if I’ve had my one grand affair and my destiny now is to go on alone?’
‘Destiny? Luck? I don’t need to get the tarot cards out to know that that’s double bollocks. Scraping the bottom there, sport, when you should be out there grabbing them,’ Rob said as we headed to the lockers to get dressed.
‘No, you’re our baby now. And if I can prove to Hannah we can look after you, maybe she’ll think we could manage a real one, which would probably involve less puking and high-pitched crying. So stay by your phone because once I get home we’ll be getting stuck into the next phase of the project to get you sorted. Unless Hannah’s decided there’s nothing more arousing than a man still glistening and pumped from a hard physical workout — see you later, Tom, bye — and can be convinced to go for another set of twenty reps. But let’s work on one miracle at a time.’
We finished getting dressed and wearily grabbed our bags, heading for the exit. As we opened the door into the lobby the muffled throb of motivational dance music got louder and we edged past a group of fitness instructors and regulars working on timetables for their chosen methods of torturing themselves. Out in the surprising cold of the car park, Rob pulled up.
‘I’ve forgotten something. You go on ahead. I’ll call you later. Remember, stand by your phone.’
I wandered on, not paying much attention, distracted as I was by my phone. A text message from Delphine.
Maybe things were looking up.
Chapter Five
Alex is such a bastard. I’m so stupid. :-(
In case the message itself weren’t enough, the emoticon let me know that Delphine was not happy this Sunday morning. But what other significance did the message have? I’d spent the walk home pondering what it might have meant, and how I would reply. It was terrible when someone you knew and liked was so obviously unhappy, and going
Rob stabbed the panel on his treadmill and upped his running pace to a point where breathing, never mind talking, was a challenge, but male pride meant I had to try and catch up. I accelerated and was soon matching pace for pace, which meant he went faster. So I went faster again, until we were both virtually sprinting. I managed a nod to the old ladies next to us, who looked back sympathetically at the wheezy young man having a hot flush.
As suddenly as he had started, Rob finished his sprint, thumping the stop button and levitating himself off the track with his arms. I hit stop too, but just slumped on the control panel as the mill slowed down, face resting on the cold plastic while the rubber under me dragged my feet backwards.
‘You know the main thing though, sport?’ asked Rob, closer to being his peppy usual self, as we trudged back to the changing-room showers. ‘I have a terrible responsibility now. Like the noble red Indian…’
‘Native American,’ I corrected.
‘Right, Tonto. Like the noble native American indigenous tribesman and casino magnate, I believe that saving someone’s life makes you responsible for protecting it in the future. And so I have to redouble our efforts to find the woman to make your life worth living. Or at least get you laid.’
‘You know, I’m still not sure about this,’ I told Rob as we battered life back into our limbs in the showers. ‘I tell you, I could be getting a lot of stuff done if I just avoided situations that leave me hugging myself in a foetal position of shame and embarrassment.’
‘Bollocks to that. The last thing anyone wants to see is you taking up knitting as a hobby. The only way to get you out of that foetal position is to get you into some more erotic ones. Oh, hi, Darren.’
Darren, one of the big body builders, spun on his heel and decided perhaps he’d wait for his shower until he got home.
‘But what if I’ve had all my luck? What if I’ve had my one grand affair and my destiny now is to go on alone?’
‘Destiny? Luck? I don’t need to get the tarot cards out to know that that’s double bollocks. Scraping the bottom there, sport, when you should be out there grabbing them,’ Rob said as we headed to the lockers to get dressed.
‘No, you’re our baby now. And if I can prove to Hannah we can look after you, maybe she’ll think we could manage a real one, which would probably involve less puking and high-pitched crying. So stay by your phone because once I get home we’ll be getting stuck into the next phase of the project to get you sorted. Unless Hannah’s decided there’s nothing more arousing than a man still glistening and pumped from a hard physical workout — see you later, Tom, bye — and can be convinced to go for another set of twenty reps. But let’s work on one miracle at a time.’
We finished getting dressed and wearily grabbed our bags, heading for the exit. As we opened the door into the lobby the muffled throb of motivational dance music got louder and we edged past a group of fitness instructors and regulars working on timetables for their chosen methods of torturing themselves. Out in the surprising cold of the car park, Rob pulled up.
‘I’ve forgotten something. You go on ahead. I’ll call you later. Remember, stand by your phone.’
I wandered on, not paying much attention, distracted as I was by my phone. A text message from Delphine.
Maybe things were looking up.
Chapter Five
Alex is such a bastard. I’m so stupid. :-(
In case the message itself weren’t enough, the emoticon let me know that Delphine was not happy this Sunday morning. But what other significance did the message have? I’d spent the walk home pondering what it might have meant, and how I would reply. It was terrible when someone you knew and liked was so obviously unhappy, and going
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