Friday 30 July 2010

What The Duck?

Other titles I considered for this post included: Duck’s Sake!, Ducking Unfair!, oh and of course I Found The Catch. There had to be a catch - after all no man is that perfect - and Duck Man, as he shall henceforth be known, turned out to be no different from the rest. So I shall now attempt to do for you what I couldn’t bring myself to do for him and that is summarise ‘in straight forward sentences’ what he did wrong.

Two words: hence why.

Maybe it doesn’t matter. Maybe I could have learned to live with it. Except I know I couldn’t. I had already mentally corrected his English, rearranged his apostrophes and glossed over instances of random capitalisation. And in fairness he took it in good part when I corrected him. He even went on to use ‘hence’ without the redundant ‘why’ tagging along but his look of utter confusion when I explained to him why it was wrong told me we could never be soulmates. Still, even a grammar nazi like me doesn’t throw away a perfectly good man just because he capitalized the word 'Freezer' in an email. No, no I managed to pick all sorts of other ludicrous holes in his personality and indeed the very fibres of his being.* These holes include, but are not limited to, the following:

The fact that he bought 9 chickens just because I mentioned I had always quite wanted some.

His ability to expound on a subject at length without needing me to interject more than once every half an hour or so.

The fact that he doesn’t believe in global warming.

But he does believe his house is haunted.

And most disturbing of all: the fact that he didn’t laugh once when I played him the Flight of the Conchords album. So shocked was I in fact that I played it again in its entirety just to check. Nothing. Not even a chuckle.

And so the awful truth began to dawn that perhaps I wasn’t going to marry this man and have his babies after all. In fact I was beginning to feel decidedly claustrophobic.

This probably wasn't the best time therefore for my dog to attack one of his ducks. His son's favourite duck no less. I say 'attack' - she merely playfully pinned it to the ground by the neck and then looked up at me as if to say, "What? We're just messing" before letting it stagger free outwardly unharmed, if a little disgruntled.

I was due to see Duck Man a couple of nights later when I got a last minute phone call to say he couldn't make it. The duck had gone into shock and he had to stay at home and care for it.

Four days later the duck died. In front of his 8 year old son.

My dog killed my soon-to-be-ex-boyfriend's son's favourite duck.

Now I’ll never get to drive his Ferrari.


*I realise these are ridiculous reasons to dump someone. I may have been a bit picky.

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