I was listening to the echo of my own mouth breathing. Alone. In the AvCanada chat room. I had ventured a couple of times into the virtual socialization scene, but bugged out when it got too hairy. I was determined to stick it out this time. All I needed was someone to show up. But I waited, and waited, and waited... until. BOODLIIINGG!! Someone popped in to chat!
But it wasn't just anyone, it was Henri. The 182Driver! GULP!
My usual overactive sweat glands instantly drenched my shirt.
“Yo bud, wasup?” the driver inquired.
To type back would be sure folly! I'd read this guy's posts before. He was one tough customer. I thought I'd befriend him, and with trembling hand, typed, “hI 182, OOPS THE CAPS LOCK IS messing me up, that's betteR. Oops.”
The first impression is always the most important.
“Hey ISTP, where the chicks at?”
“Chicks? On a farm?”
“You're really a moron, aren't ya muffin?”
No one calls me a baked product! I countered with a STFU! He went Crouching Tiger Hidden Dragon on me, pummeling my ego with weight slurs, lack of facial hair snipes, and even a testicular size one two punch. My confidence was reeling. I almost passed out at the keyboard!
“ISTP, you're so fat, that when you sit, around the El Camino, you sit AROUND THE EL CAMINO! I oughtta come through this screen, and rip your brains out, punk! Oh that's right, YOU DON'T HAVE ANY!”
But, by the grace of God, appeared Chantal. BOODLBLINGGGG!!
I needed to recouperate, as Henri worked his magic. I couldn't believe what I was lurking!
“Hey, Chanty, let's you and me boogie on down to the local synagogue, and check out some real live deity worship. Just listen for the RATT coming out of my tape deck as I pull up to your house, and you better be out front by the time I hit your door, otherwise, there's lots more ladies to take out on a Saturday morning.”
Or something like that. Then, as if a clarion call had been placed around the world, other chatters of the female persuasion began to BBBLLOOOOING!!!, BRROODLING!!, and BOOD, BLLING-BADALINNNG!!! into the room.
The girls started pulling on each other's virtual hair, biting, scratching, knees to groining each other over 182Driver! Aviatrix had some nunchucks with “Western” embossed on them! Sar freaked on Kade, who was no doubt PMing petite for help!
“Hey, ladies, there's enough of Henri to go around. Now be good little kittens, and take a number.”
I couldn't stand for this misogyny! I had to defend the women of AvCanada!
“Henri. Please stop.” Take that!
“Look cupcake,” there he went again with the baked products! WAR! “You just pour yourself another diet Sprite, old chap, and stay out of my way, 'cause this party in the rear do is all BUSINESS up front, if you catch my drift.”
I was so mad, I fell off my chair, and hit my head on a drawer that was sticking out of my desk. I got up, and was in a haze as I saw the names cascade and BLOOLOINGGG!! onto the screen. Juggs had a couple of different flags now, endless and desksgo were screaming for hazatude (for different reasons). jumperdumper was chatting with bandaid about how fast an ambulance can go, and if they have rev-limiters or not. Oh the MADNESS!! There was TAT pissing off Cat Driver asking for his virtual documents. Stan Cooper and jeffrogers were having a heated argument about the best way to capitalize first and last names. AvCanada was changing settings and parameters to assist 182Driver in his pursuits. (as if 182 needed his help!)
All the while, Henri worked his magic. Was this real? Did I have too much cough syrup, nyquil, or Midol as I was cleaning my basement apartment with Lysol?
C-GPME went Sith, as DXPR and lanew were LOL-ing and WTF?-ing like a couple of madmen! Charles the Equestrian went in and out here and there.
This Friday night was out of hand! If I had a Cirrus parachute on my computer, I would have pulled the rip cord!
182Driver was scoring like Gretzky, and all of the rest of us were amazed as he logged off- with a written flourish that I could only dream of emulating:
“See ya gents! I've got ladies to entertain. This'll keep me busy for a while, and that whole Air Canada thing will too. See ya in a few months!
”And with that, the door closing sound rang hollow in my basement apartment. I missed Henri. How could I miss a man that verbally beat me to cat-snot? I was sad- as were others. I could hear a million AvCanada voices wail in the distant northern air. “Henriiiiiiii!! Come baaaaaack!!!”
