I'll never forget 1995. I was a long time ago I know but it seems like yesterday to me. For a start it was a scorching hot summer, a rare thing in the UK and for another Everton won the FA Cup and that is even rarer. On top of that I'd also graduated from University with a BA Honours degree in English Literature and I was looking forward to starting my first job as a sports reporter for a local paper. And if that wasn't enough I had bought my first car, a red VW Beetle which I loved even more than I loved my girlfriend, which is saying something. But none of these are the reason why I will never forget 1995.
In the three years I spent at university I had met many people and got to know some of them quite well. I made many friends but I became close friends with Craig, Stewart and Dean in particular. We hit it off straight away and soon we were spending a lot of time together. We talking about our courses, our lecturers, about how shit the library was, about how boring Warwick was and we talked about about our plans for the future and so on. But we also did a lot of drinking and went to a lot of concerts and to as many parties as we could fit into our schedule. But a huge amount of our time though was also devoted to chasing girls. There were plenty to choose from on campus but there was one in particular we were all after because she was every man's wet dream.
Her name was Veronica and she had the face of an angel and the body of a Greek goddess. She had long curly blonde hair, blue eyes a nice red mouth and flawlessly white skin. We were all crazy about her and we never missed an opportunity to chat her up and chance our arm. Not that we got anywhere with her mind you and we were all shot down in flames with all engines ablaze more than once. But we weren't that upset when it happened because deep down in our heart of hearts we all knew that she was out of our league. She was the kind of girl who was destined for a billionaire or a Duke or a movie star not ordinary blokes like us. But not only was she utterly gorgeous she was also really nice. Beautiful girls are always so stuck up and full of airs and graces and they make it perfectly obvious that they think ordinary blokes like us aren't good enough to smell their shit. But Veronica wasn't like that. She was clever and liked a joke and was just good fun to be with. She didn't mind that we were always trying it on with her because like all girls she loved all the attention and being made a fuss of by us blokes. What we did find a bit strange though was that in all the time we knew her we never saw her going out with anyone. We sometimes wondered if that was because she was frigid or (god forbid!) a dyke or something but we discounted that. We all knew she liked the company of men and so we knew she must have had loads of boyfriends but we all wondered if none of us were good enough for her what kind of man was? Obviously he had to be tall dark and handsome but did she like them to be down to earth no nonesense types like me? Sporty types like Craig? Comedians like Stewart? Play it by the book types like Dean? Or interllectuals like Nigel?
Nigel was a bloke I had got to know when we shared digs for about a year. He wasn't a friend exactly but he was all right. He was tall and skinny very pale with a mop of jet black hair that had never seen a comb plus he wore thick black rimmed glasses. He looked exactly how the "school swot" should look like. On top of that he didn't drink or smoke (or swear), wasn't interested in sport or going to parties or concerts or in doing anything that was fun and that me and blokes like me enjoyed doing. In fact all he did was study and eat Pot Noodles. So he found it difficult to fit in and make friends and I couldn't help but feel a bit sorry for him sometimes. And when my mates came round I tried to stick up for him when they took the piss out of him. And they were merciless and they never got tired of tormenting him and letting him know that he was odd. To my mates taking the mickey out of Nigel was a sport; a cruel blood sport.
"Come Nigel, just admit it. You're a poofta!" insisted Craig.
"Leave it out," I said half-heartedly
"So what kind of girls do you like Nigel?" asked Stewart.
"Why do you want to know?" asked Nigel nervously.
"Just curious, that's all."
Any bloke will tell you that they have a certain type they go for. One might be a "tit" man another a "leg" man and a third might be an "arse" man. Me? Tit man definitely. And Criag? Leg. And Stewart? Also leg. And Dean? He liked a good arse. But what about Nigel? He wouldn't say.
"But you
do
like girls?" pressed Stewart making it sound more like a threat than a question.
"Of-course."
"Why of-course?"
"Have you ever had a girlfriend Nigel?" Dean wanted to know. And we all waited for him to lie.
"Stop being so damn childish," he chidded us trying to shame us into backing off. No chance!
"But Nigel, we
like
being childish!" Dean pointed out.
"Come on Nigel stop being so modest. Tell us how many birds you've shagged. Is it more than a hundred or less than a hundred?" asked Criag
"It's none of your business," said Nigel.
"You're right. It's not," agreed Craig "but what's the answer?"
"A gentleman never tells," replied Nigel.
"Doesn't he?" gaffawed Dean and the rest of us too, "why the fuck not?" We all knew why but we still wanted to see him squirm.
"And since when have you been a gentleman Nigel?" we all wanted to know.
"I don't understand why you are so interested in my private life?" complained Nigel.
"Because we're nosey, that's why," explained Dean.
"Maybe he's waiting for Mrs Right?" I suggested.
"Except she's waiting for Brad Pitt," chuckled Dean.
"Nigel is a bit picky that's all," explained Stewart, "only the best is good enough for him. Am I right? Cindy Crawford, Claudia Schiffer, Pam Anderson..."
"No of-course not," said Nigel looking and sounding uncomfortable.
"Come now, leave him alone," I said.
"I'm telling you mate," said Stewart sternly "best thing to do is just go down to the local knocking shop and let one of the girls there show you the ropes."
"Yeah. Once you've broken your duck you'll be fine," Craig assured him.
"Shagging birds is a lot easier than Physics," said Dean giving Nigel a meaningful look.
"I wish you would go away and mind your own business," said Nigel squirming in his chair
"We can't Nigel. We'd like to but we can't," said Craig sounding very apologetic.
"We're worried about you Nigel. This place is full of totty just gagging for it and you're letting it all go to waste."
They came up with a few suggestions. What about Jane? She wasn't bad, a bit flat chested mind you, but not bad. Or what about Susan then? She was a popular girl if you know what I mean. Buy her a drink and she's anyone's. Or Kate, she wasn't that pretty but she was clever. She liked Physics too so they'll have plenty to talk about. They all agreed that if he made a bit of an effort he could pull at least one and no one could understand why he didn't and frankly nor could I. It wasn't that hard for Pete's sake. You just ask them don't you? Most will say "no" but you'll find one who says "yes" in the end. Sure it might take someone as weird as Nigel a bit longer to find a girl to say "yes" but that wasn't a reason for not even trying. You have to put the work in if you want to get your end away and that was true for all blokes; even Brad Pitt
I remember one time after Craig and the others had been particularily brutal saying to Nigel, "girls don't bite you know."
"Oh I know," and then he added with a touch bravado, "I have had a girlfriend you know."
"Broke your heart did she?"
"Not exactly."
I waited for more information. But that was it.
"Sorry, I forgot; "a gentleman never tells" am I right?"
Nigell smiled wanly.
"Okay then. I'll leave you to your Thermodynamics or whatever it is," and shut the door behind me.
I have to admit it was strange. Okay, so he was uncomfortable around girls but he seemed to have a pathalogical fear of them as if they were aliens out to zap him with their ray guns or something. Because if one walked past him he'd shrink away as if he feared that even bodily contact might do him some harm and if a girl said anything to him even if it was only "have you got a light please?" he'd look startled and turn away and would ignore her.
Yet like all of us he couldn't resist gawping at Veronica whenever he saw her. His eyes were literally on stalks and his mouth would be half open. There must have been an absolute riot in his trousers! I can't be sure but I'm positive he followed her around. Because just as she would be leaving the lecture hall he'd be there hanging around at the bottom of the stairs or he'd "happen to be there" whenever she went to the library or when she went to the local supermarket he just happened to be going too. And the only time I ever saw him at the students bar hugging a pint in the far corner was when she was there with her friends or getting chatted up by me and a dozen other blokes.
So one day I decided to approach him and said, "Ask her if you can buy her a drink,"
"What? Oh no."
"Why not?"
"She wont want me to."
"Ask her and find out."
"I better not."
"All girls expect to be chatted up, "I mean take Veronica...I've chatted her up. So have Dean and Stewart and Craig. Now imagine if we just ignored her all the time. How bad do you think that would make her feel? You're a beautiful and desireable and no one ever says to you that you are beautiful and desireable. How awful would that be?"
"I suppose so."
"See the thing is, Veronica is not only the best looking girl in this place she is also really nice. And if you are nice to her she will be nice to you back."
