Read Online Don't Kiss Girls and Other Silly Stories by Pat Flynn - Free Book Online Page B

baggy jeans and tight black T-shirt, she made a ‘humph’ sound and said, ‘They are so last season.’
    â€˜They’re clothes,’ I replied, ‘not a team.’
    She stood on her tippy-toes so she could look down on me. ‘Remember, Tony, a pretty girl like Ashleigh can change her mind just like that.’ She clicked her fingers. ‘And a guy like you can ruin things in a thousand different ways. You want some advice?’
    â€˜No,’ I said, walking off.
    I’ve decided that a father–son talk is what I need. I must be desperate.
    â€˜Go, mate, go!’ My old man’s yelling at the TV.
    â€˜Dad, can I ask you something?’
    â€˜Sure, son. THIS REF’S BLIND!’
    Dad takes his football seriously.
    â€˜Do you remember your first date with Mum?’
    He looks away from the TV for a millisecond. ‘Sure do, son. Took her to the pictures.’
    â€˜The movies?’
    â€˜Yeah. I looked pretty smooth back then, let me tell you.’
    â€˜What happened?’
    â€˜Oh, thanks a lot. I know I’ve put on a few kilos and lost some hair but—’
    â€˜No,’ I interrupt. ‘I mean, what happened at the movies?’
    â€˜Oh, right. Well, I did the old yawn trick on her. It worked a treat.’
    â€˜The yawn trick? What’s that?’
    â€˜Well … KICK THE BALL, YOU MUG! … it’s quite simple, really. I’ll show you.’
    Dad motions for me to sit beside him on the couch. ‘You gotta wait till at least halfway through the show before you make your move, or else she might think you’re coming on too strong.’
    Glad he told me that. I was going to make a move while we lined up to buy tickets.
    â€˜Then,’ he continues, ‘you let out a big yawn, like this.’ Dad does what he says, leaning back and stretching out his arms. ‘Your left hand, it comes back to your side, okay? But your right one, it slowly slides across the sheila’s seat. And then …’ Dad taps my right shoulder. ‘… you’ve got your arm around the girl, and all is right with the world. TACKLE HIM, YOU OVERPAID BUNCH OF PANSIES!’
    â€˜Thanks, Dad,’ I say, and I mean it. It’s the first time in ages he has taught me something really useful.
    I leave him to the footy and go practise my yawning.
    *
    Mum drives me to the movies. To make conversation, I remind her of her first date with Dad.
    When I finish, she raises her eyebrows. ‘The pictures, he said?’
    â€˜Yeah,’ I reply. ‘And I can’t believe he did the old yawn trick on you, and it worked!’
    I poke Mum in the ribs to share the joke. But for some reason she’s not laughing. In fact, she doesn’t look at all happy.
    â€˜What’s wrong, Mum?’
    â€˜Your father never took me to the pictures. We were supposed to go on a picnic for our first date but he showed up an hour late so we went for a walk instead. Then it started raining.’
    â€˜He was probably talking about your second date then,’ I suggest.
    â€˜No. We didn’t go to the movies until after we were engaged. Your dad never had enough money to take me.’
    â€˜Oh …’
    Mum grips the steering wheel like it’s someone’s neck and she’s trying to break it. ‘If he ever took that floozy Fiona to the pictures and did the yawn trick on her, then so help me God …’
    I wouldn’t like to be Dad when Mum gets home. It’s kind of a shame I won’t be there to see the fireworks.
    We arrive at the plaza, but instead of dropping me off, Mum parks the car.
    â€˜What are you doing?’ There’s a hint of panic in my voice.
    â€˜You don’t think I’d let you go on a date with a girl I’ve never met, do you?’
    â€˜Mum, no!’
    â€˜Sorry, Tony. I either meet her or we’ll turn around and drive home. It’s that