I’m not that old so fuck you
15th May 2008I saw Andrew McCarthy at work today. Andrew McCarthy and I collided at the double doors. Andrew McCarthy was wearing pastel colours and his hair was light brown and feathered, but in a slightly more modern way. Andrew McCarthy’s cat eyes were glassy and his lips were bubblegum pink and slick. I envisioned a future in which I would call Andrew McCarthy ‘Andy Mac’ because we were close that way. Andy Mac would sing and perform for me in his boxer shorts while I sat in bed. Andy Mac and I would recite lines from Pretty in Pink to each other while eating vanilla berry swirl at the ice cream parlour. Andy Mac would not try to remind me that he’s done other work since Pretty in Pink because Andy Mac is humble and knows he got a good deal in life. As I reached for the door, the real Andy Mac flashed me his trademark ‘knowing wink and winning smile’ to indicate that he would hold it open for me. I was touched that Andy Mac acted so gallantly. I smiled and thanked him as I passed. Andy Mac gazed at the floor in embarrassment. Andy Mac went through the door and looked back without realising I was still looking at him. Andy Mac gazed downwards coyly, half-smiling as he shuffled off.
15th May 2008 at 7:41 am
Oh, dear Andy Mac. How I loved you. Until Weekend at Bernies Part 2.
15th May 2008 at 7:50 am
Yes, but have you seen James Spader on the District Line recently?
15th May 2008 at 11:52 am
Oh dear, I am that old, so fuck, er I mean, thank you.
15th May 2008 at 1:21 pm
Andy Mac made me cry in a Canadian movie called New Waterford Girl. Of course, you probably wouldn’t cry over the movie if you (a) had never been a small town girl dreaming of something bigger, and (b) had never experienced an anguished mutual attraction situation with one of your young high school teachers.
I highly recommend the movie anyway. If you want to watch something with quintessential Canadian humour.
15th May 2008 at 8:39 pm
I have no idea who Andrew McCarthy is but I don’t think that’s particularly important. What I like about the story is how the character metamorphs in the narrator’s head so that when she interacts with him she responds to the imagined person as opposed to the real one. Nicely done.
15th May 2008 at 9:07 pm
i would comment but I’m afraid my rich friends wouldn’t approve
15th May 2008 at 9:48 pm
Look, for the last time - I’ve never met you and I don’t know who you are. Please stop standing outside my house twenty-four hours a day.
And I’m also calling the police about the wilful damage to my car: ‘I LUV U ANDY MAC’ written in lipstick on my windscreen. I know it was you.
16th May 2008 at 4:26 pm
Clarissa: Ha. Yes, I think his sell-by date was 31 December 1989.
AUW: James who? I’m sorry, I have no idea what you’re talking about. *shiverrrrr*
Lillipilli: Yeah, chick, me too. Hence the attitude. ;)
Jess: Small town girl: check. Big dreams: check. Anguished attraction: check, check, CHECK!
Jim Murdoch: American actor, probably most popular with females that came of age at some point during the 80’s. But you’re right, that’s not nearly as important as the emotions and images provoked by the collision. Thanks for confirming that it comes across.
Peach: How I wish I had that problem.
Andy Mac: Don’t worry, lover. You’re off the hook now I know which line James Spader travels on.
24th May 2008 at 4:45 pm
so cool, i adore the entire scenario inside
the narrator’s mind, entirely complete.