Friday, March 19, 2004

Today I have an interesting tale from a friend of mine who I shall elect to call "SCG" for no other reason that her actual name is slightly longer and more cumbersome to type and the fact that she may not want her name to appear to readers to whom she is known for reasons that won't be stated here (mostly because I don't know what they would be if it would in fact be the case). The facts may vary from the truth in part or in whole because her story was told to me in several parts, new details being added all the time, changes being made, omissions from previous versions and complete irrelevancies being thrown in while key plot points were being discussed (ex. "he was about to do ... and just as he did- Hey! My shirt looks like the one that Mike Myers wore in that movie ... What was I saying? Oh yeah ...").

It all started (or at least I gathered that it did) one day last week when SCG (because that is what we previously elected to call her) was walking on campus with her guitar (at least that is where I gathered she was) and this guy comes up to her and starts talking to her. He seems quite nice (at least I think ... you get the picture) so when he mentions that he plays guitar and would like to "jam" she says sure. So they go and play for a bit and it turns out that this guy really can't play guitar all that well, or even t all really, but he tries somewhat feebly. She tries to teach him some awesome Metalica song but he sucks too badly and can't play it, nor does he have the patience to learn or take heed of her instructions, so she leaves politely (she is a very polite girl and doesn't hurt his feelings by telling him that he is awful and has nothing to be so cocky about (for he was surely that).

A few days later at approximately midnight SCG receives a call from this guy (you must understand that she didn't give him her number and wasn't in the student directory or anything so this would be understandably creepy) saying that he has found a song that they can jam together with and perform at the local bar together. SCG doesn't frequent bars nor would she like to start, especially not with cocky crappy guitarists, but being the polite person that she is she accepts and goes to meet him the next day.

What does this song turn out to be? I'll bet you didn't guess "One Tin Soldier" by Dennis Lambert
and Brian Potter! He then proceeds to sing along with his atrocious guitar playing and asking with the audacity that only the imperviously obliviousness can assume for her to "accompany him" because he could use some classical accompaniment. Wow. Does this pick-up technique ever work? Of course she gets out of there as fast as manners would allow and now has the decision of what to do with this guy. Then she runs into me and ... Not important.

I would like your comments on this one people. How would you treat this tin soldier, do you have any better stories, or anything else you feel like writing, it doesn't matter.

Summary in seven words: Some guy, crappy guitarist, arrogant, SCG, Comments?

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