100 Days Project

Ben: 100 Writings / 100 Opening Guitar Hooks

various, random creative expressions / writings, inspired partially by 100 popular songs (songs that somewhat begin with a leading hook of a guitar.)

Day 56:

“Geek Stink Breath” (1995) by Green Day

“Geek Stink Breath” (1995) by Green Day

“This is Kevin”
He was tall and had high cheekbones, giving him a somewhat Italian look. He had a big nose which cast a huge shadow down onto his lips and chin. His ears stuck out and his hair was ruffled. He looked as attractive to her since the last time she noticed him in that last conference.
“Is that Mike? Oi! Oi, Mike! Sorry, I gotta go see this guy, he owes me money.”
So Dan left the conversation and it was just her …. and Kevin. Kevin had no idea.
Her lip twitched wanting to say something.
“Um … so that was a very good conference.”
“Yes, it was. I thought Dr. Bethell’s speech was well presented. That keynote on Indonesian taxation laws – very interesting. But I thought Prof. Wahid wasn’t so good.”
No idea. He looked across to see where in world Dan went. A gust of wind further ruffled his hair. Here stood that cute guy she was admiring from seven rows back. She glad eye’d him. But he was too busy looking west.
“Yes, I also thought Prof. Wahid was-”
“But, to be fair, his framework ideas on the economy are plain absurd.”
He looked down on her like she was one of his students, as if she was in one of his lectures. Still no idea. She met his eyes, full and welcoming. Still no fucking idea.
“I mean, those reforms of the 1990’s certainly weren’t chaste nor corruptible, but not to the extent of what he was talking about.”
He talked like a machine gun. She was glad he wasn’t just a pretty face. She wanted to find out more, “so, do you work here at the Un-”
“Yes, I do and a few of the theses my post graduate students are researching of course involve the GEC but a minority of them also from the perspectives of indigenous cultures and how…”
His disregard for her warm gaze and his increasing wandering tone, soon made her realise this would be the same type of guy she meets at bars – loud, self-centred. The only difference was neither of them were drinking and instead of sport, he was talking about commercial law.
“…. they perceived it in their cultures.”
His eyes were somewhere else and she gave up. Another showpony. Probably lives with his mother. He pulled out from his pocket a pack of smokes and lit up. Ugh, a god dam smoker. Gross.
“I’d seen a seminar of his last time he was here and he presented a quasi-presentable discussion about their Indonesian prosecution laws, especially in how Islam …”
She took one step back. He blew the deal in that one moment of his ignorance. She looked to find out where Mike went as well. A puff of death blew into a gust from the east and returned splashing on her face. She coughed. He continued.
“… incorporates its lens on taxations laws. Dr. Bethell however was-”
“Um, I’ve got to go. Bye.”
“… a far better presenter in trying- okay, goodbye.”
Only on her exit did he notice her pretty legs. What a nice lady, he thought.

Mike came back. “Where did Sarah go?”
“Who’s Sarah?”
“That woman that was here. Put out that fucking cigarette! Did you smoke that in front of her?”
“Um, I think so.”
“You idiot. I’ve been trying to hook you both up for ages.”