*********************************** * PISS PHILEZ NUMBER 8 * * * * An Internet Love Story * * * * by Sameer Ketkar * *********************************** Damn, she's hot, I thought when I opened the door to our apartment. "Oh, hello," I said. "Hey, is your sister here?" God, she doesn't even know my name, "Yeah, she's in her room." Every time I see my sister's friend, all I can think of is : Damn. How can I get her to talk to me? Maybe if she didn't know it was me, or didn't know me just by who my sister was. Not able to get the topic out of my head, I devised dozens of air-tight, fool-proof plans to get her to talk to me over the next three days; and rejected each one. Right about when I was about ready to give up, I was frustrated, so I started playing Dune II on my new computer, thinking hard about girl troubles and winning a war. The Atreides were slaughtering me (approximately how I felt in two situations) on the seventh level. I wish I could play this over the modem, like Warcraft II, and send a victory message to Jim just when I'm about to slaughter him (wait; send messages, a modem) I see a connection here!; my eyes lit up, "maybe if she didn't know it was me," yeah, I was thinking on those lines a few days ago wasn't I? Woohoo! We have a winner! * * * hi, my name's simon, this isn't my real name, but i'd like to remain inconspicuous. I laughed at my first line, then thought that what if was a bit too direct. good, i finally found someone like me, you see, i don't want people to think i'm a computer-nerd or something so i wanna keep my name out of it, too, she "said" awesome! I only had to lie, cheat and steal to get hooked up with her—phony personality traits, etc., so the computer would match us for cross-talk, a new and exciting service from the world of Cyberspace. you can call me susie. "I never thought I could meet a girl this way, over the computer I mean." "Yeah, well, I think it's really cool. But, how do you know I'm a girl?" I froze, then realized it was just a joke, or I'd made a gross miscalculation. "So," I said, "why don't you tell me something about yourself. How old are you?" "Well, I'm a junior now. I'm not taking too many hard classes, but the ones I have are pretty tough." She wrote on this topic for five minutes. "Yeah, I know what you mean. I'm taking too many hard classes and I'm just getting tired and worn out every day. By the way, I'm a sophomore, it's great to be out of that 'fresh-meat' year." That night we "talked" for hours (nine to twelve) about mindless things from Algebra to Chemistry to Star Wars. I never thought she'd have such a good personality, I just thought she was just a babe type, another gross miscalculation. After three days of chatting practically twenty-four seven, we'd ascended to calling each other by the distinguished appellations of "Moron" and "Idiot-girl", just like real friends do. "Yeah, and me and my friends, actually me and my sister would always make up new words using the format of fugly (fucking +ugly= fugly), which we heard once in some techno-crap song. Me and my friends (me mostly)made up a few more, like frad, fhillarious, fawesome, fyou (phew, I swear!), fglasshole and fidiot." She didn't answer for about thirty seconds, I checked the hookup on my modem (okay)I checked the rest of my computer (okay) "Susie? Are you there, something wrong?" "No, I was just laughing, I'm gonna tell some of those to my friends. Glasshole, huh?" "Yeah, but, like I said, I didn't think of all of them." "Hey, Moron, shut up for a second, I gotta tell you something. I'd really like to meet you, face-to-face I mean. We could go to Fire or something." I didn't even flinch. "Yo, Loser, uh, slow down a sec; sorry to have to be the one to break the news to you, but we've been talking about nonsense for three days, we probably won't recognize each other by stuff like: medium height, black hair, incredibly good-looking (I have never told a lie)." "Oh well, we'll talk on Saturday, I know this great bar." I decided to break the horrible news to her. "But, me and my friends don't go clubbing or to bars, we usually go see movies and sleep over each other's houses and stuff like that." She paused, as if collecting her thoughts. The longest eight seconds of my life as I waited for her to answer. "The then I'll take you out. My friends'll love you, I mean, I can tell one of your goals in life has gotta be to make people laugh." Holy cow! That really is one of my goals in life. I smiled. I guess we do know each other okay. But I've never gone "out" out, just "out" as in to movies and I don't want to drink. Oh well, Fuck it. Oh yeah, and she's so pretty and I'm so *not*. * * * Well, it's Saturday, what, am I gonna do? I don't drink, don't smoke, don't go clubbing. Just do it. I guess there'll be that peer-pressure crap. I guess I might as well blow my money on a cab, too. The cab ride took an excruciatingly long time. When I got to the hotel near the bar (the only place the cabbie recognized), I looked around, deserted, except for the hotel staff. Let's see, make a right at the intersection, and the bar is on the left. What if they don't let me in? My eyes kinda went wide in a comic gesture of dread. Relax, I told myself, you haven't shaved for three days, it's like a forest up there. I walked in, made a quick check of the tables and realized she wasn't there, yet, the small glimmer of hope in the back of my mind screamed. She had to show, she asked me to come here (damn fool, you're early). With my heart threatening to beat right out of my ribcage, I went to the back of the bar and sat down near the TV. I started watching some crappy Singaporean MTV wannabe featuring Sting and Kenny-G. I was just starting to develop a taste for the saxophone when I heard a rustle from the entrance to the bar. I looked over and saw five of the most popular girls in the school, including Her, walking into the bar. She looked me over once, (I just knew) she knew I was Simon, and just kinda shrugged. Oh god, she thinks I'm an ugly fidiot and is gonna walk out of here right now. "Simon?" she asked. "Brilliant deduction, Holmes, how did you do it, Susie?" Her four friends were only slightly dumbfounded: they'd already hit a few bars that night. She smiled an incredibly warm smile. People always give you the biggest smile right before squashing you. "Yup, it's you all right. But you know we can only be friends", she stopped, "what's wrong?" She'd seen my shoulders visibly slacken, my expression go dim. With my eyes turned to the floor, I croaked out one of the hardest words of my life, "Okay," with a sigh and a hand on my brow. I definitely, from the day I was born, have had it all wrong. "I always thought you were kinda cute", my eyes lit up, but just for a second, "but you're just my friend's little brother," she said with a slight shaking of her head. She smiled that incredibly warm smile again. ---------------------------------------------------------------------- PISS - People into Serious Shit Founderz - Defenestrator, PhrostByte Memberz - Author Parselon Wu Forever kQs CGibbons Extinction Faekon/Homarid Grench Greenseed Tim 121 Rhodekyll Contributors- Sameer Ketkar Want more stuph? Go to http://www.angelfire.com/sc/PISS/philez.html The site will change as soon as I get money for one.. E-mail the group at chrisbarron@hotmail.com ©1997 PISS Publications This file may be posted freely as long as this notice stays on the file. All rights reserved.