Tuesday, 5 March 2013

On how an eyeliner pencil nearly ruined my life



It's crazy how the smallest thing could potentially ruin your life, isn't it? Like a tiny mistake that costs you your job or a fall that breaks your hand and ends your career as a professional fluffer.

I recently bought a car. My better half was starting a new job and we needed two cars to facilitate us going to our respective work places. A few weeks after getting the car I was messing around in the back footwell, cleaning things up and I found an eye liner pencil. Naturally, I assumed it belonged to my fiancée and chucked it onto my back seat. We had previously gone somewhere in the car and her makeup bag was on my back seat and fell on the floor. I naturally assumed this eyeliner pencil belonged to her and resolved to ask her about it later but, as I have the short term memory and attention span of an ADHD squirrel, I forgot.

A few weeks after that I was replacing the shitty floor mats with new ones and I found it again. Once again I resolved that I would tell my more beautiful half that I had found her eyeliner and ask if she would like it back. Once again I forgot all about it. Until yesterday.

We were going out for lunch with a quick stop off at a friend's house to drop off a wetvac and some shoes. On seeing that the wetvac would not fit into the boot of the car, my misses looks in the back to see if there would be room there and finds this eyeliner pencil.

"Who's is this?"

It was at this point, judging by the tone of voice and the expression on her face, that I realised it was not her eyeliner pencil. Fuck.

Naturally, being the suave and cool guy I am, I panicked and started blabbering, despite having done nothing wrong. I now felt awful for something I hadn't done and my treacherous mouth and it's deviant cohort, Brain, were dead set on making me look as guilty as sin with a needlessly wordy and elongated explanation of why I had an eyeliner pencil in my car. I was still convinced that this eyeliner did in fact belong to my fiancée. Obviously she did not agree.

So, it was quiet and tense in the car. I was trying to not seem off because I knew that made me look more guilty and at this point I was getting worried that she was going to jump out of the car at the next traffic light and leave me! In my head I was just cursing myself over and over for not mentioning the fucking eyeliner pencil when I first found it and trying to figure out a way to dig myself out of this over sized cesspit of a hole.

We dropped the stuff off and went to lunch and I hoped that maybe things were ok but I knew they weren't. It wasn't until we got home that my better half turned to me and asked, "Do you know how that eyeliner got in your car?" Fuck. Not ok.

Luckily I managed to act like less of a twat this time and explained that I was sure it was hers and why the fuck would I cheat? Even if I had volition, which I do not, when the hell would I do it? I don't lead the most adventurous life, which is exactly how I like it. I am not a party person and, in all honesty, I deeply dislike most of humanity.

Thankfully, my beautiful fiancée is not a screaming lunatic like most of the women I have dated in my life and accepted my explanation of why I had acted like such a guilty dickhead earlier. We got past it and shared an enjoyable afternoon of watching some pretty awful films.

I guess the moral of the story is this: Should you find any mystery cosmetics in your car, ask your spouse about them immediately. Or something. Is that too specific a moral? Maybe the moral is not to act like a gittering moron when innocent. Hey, fuck you. Work out your own moral.

For the record, I still think the eyeliner pencil is hers.

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