Four Things My Geeky-Jock-of-a-Best-Friend Must Do in Europe by Jane Harrington Page A
Authors: Jane Harrington
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through the jungle—er, cruise ship—and after about, say, ANOTHER three seconds, there was a surprise photo attack from someone ELSE in our group. It was . . . can you guess?
WRONG. It wasn’t Gorkon—it was LAHN. He took a picture of Tatyana. (I suspected this all along, by the way.) Which made her smile and turn red, and then she grabbed the camera and took a picture of HIM. (I suspected THAT all along, too.) Then THEY disappeared.
Which was disturbing, as you might imagine, since—do the math—I was left alone with Gorkon. Who, as I watched Tatyana and Lahn fade off into the darkness of deck nine, jumped in front of me and snapped my picture. Then he handed me the camera.
Most uncomfortable situation, Delia. I felt bad about it, but I just COULD NOT take his picture. It wasn’t because I was taking Gilligan’s instructions too seriously or anything. It was because of FEAR. I was afraid that, given what the other Odd Squadians had done, he had gotten the idea that picture-taking was part of a human mating ritual, and that we would go off and make out once I got his photo. I was practically breaking out in hives at the thought.
“Gork,” I said. “I like you—you’re DIFFERENT.”
He advanced toward me then (very much like R2-D2, I couldn’t help but notice).
I stepped back, saying, “But it’s a FRIEND thing. Like we’ll miss each other after the trip, but we won’t go around crying about it.”
“Klingons don’t have tear ducts,” he said.
“See, there? THAT’S different—that’s what I like about you,” I said.
He stared at me (or my shirt, rather) for a VERY long minute or so and then said, “Aksh de ca lu tah.” (Or something like that.)
“Huh?” I responded.
“You will be remembered with honor,” he said.
Which was REALLY sweet, you must be thinking.
Or, since you are not nearly as nice a person as I obviously am, you may be thinking, “WHY IS SHE WASTING HER TIME WITH THIS LOSER WHEN THERE IS A EURO-HOTTIE TO FIND???” My answer to you: “I’m GETTING to that.”
“Thanks, Gork,” I said. “Maybe we could talk online sometime. Do you have a screen name?”
“KillKirk4591,” he said.
“Okaaay,” I said.
“Captain Kirk is the enemy of all Klingons,” he explained.
“Okaaay,” I repeated. “And is the ‘4591’ your birthday?”
“No,” he said. “I believe it means there are 4,590 other KillKirks.”
Talking about his screen name made him want to get online, I guess, because he said he had some work to do in the Internet Café, and then he left. That’s the last time I saw him. I hope I didn’t hurt his feelings too much.
ANYWAY.
So, left completely alone, I began a very thorough exploration of the ship. The experience was very much like the treasure hunt, so I’ll spare you the details and get to the point.
I’d been hunting for almost the whole hour and had come up with ZILCHO hotties—Euro or otherwise. I was getting ready to give up and call it a night, when, over my shoulder, I glimpsed HIM standing in the dining room. MY HOTTIE. And, oh YES, he was even EURO. I went in and talked to him, snapped his pic, and bounced (not literally—STOP laughing) back to the party and gave Gilligan the cam.
Fresh fruit smoothies were being made at the bar, so I got a strawberry one with a purple elephant perched on the rim of the glass. (I know now to steer clear of the monkeys.) More people were dancing than usual—and hugging each other and exchanging addresses and stuff—so I finally got a chance to play some foosball. There was a tournament going on (natch), and I made it three rounds before losing to the MAJOR gamer dude. (Who is from Austria, but is not anywhere near code-red. Yellow, at best.)
Then I plopped down in that same orange chair where I first saw AJ, and I spotted Tatyana and Lahn across the dance floor, looking happy. And then I saw Noori and AJ, and HE was crying now. (WHAT a sensitive guy—perhaps I should have given him more
WRONG. It wasn’t Gorkon—it was LAHN. He took a picture of Tatyana. (I suspected this all along, by the way.) Which made her smile and turn red, and then she grabbed the camera and took a picture of HIM. (I suspected THAT all along, too.) Then THEY disappeared.
Which was disturbing, as you might imagine, since—do the math—I was left alone with Gorkon. Who, as I watched Tatyana and Lahn fade off into the darkness of deck nine, jumped in front of me and snapped my picture. Then he handed me the camera.
Most uncomfortable situation, Delia. I felt bad about it, but I just COULD NOT take his picture. It wasn’t because I was taking Gilligan’s instructions too seriously or anything. It was because of FEAR. I was afraid that, given what the other Odd Squadians had done, he had gotten the idea that picture-taking was part of a human mating ritual, and that we would go off and make out once I got his photo. I was practically breaking out in hives at the thought.
“Gork,” I said. “I like you—you’re DIFFERENT.”
He advanced toward me then (very much like R2-D2, I couldn’t help but notice).
I stepped back, saying, “But it’s a FRIEND thing. Like we’ll miss each other after the trip, but we won’t go around crying about it.”
“Klingons don’t have tear ducts,” he said.
“See, there? THAT’S different—that’s what I like about you,” I said.
He stared at me (or my shirt, rather) for a VERY long minute or so and then said, “Aksh de ca lu tah.” (Or something like that.)
“Huh?” I responded.
“You will be remembered with honor,” he said.
Which was REALLY sweet, you must be thinking.
Or, since you are not nearly as nice a person as I obviously am, you may be thinking, “WHY IS SHE WASTING HER TIME WITH THIS LOSER WHEN THERE IS A EURO-HOTTIE TO FIND???” My answer to you: “I’m GETTING to that.”
“Thanks, Gork,” I said. “Maybe we could talk online sometime. Do you have a screen name?”
“KillKirk4591,” he said.
“Okaaay,” I said.
“Captain Kirk is the enemy of all Klingons,” he explained.
“Okaaay,” I repeated. “And is the ‘4591’ your birthday?”
“No,” he said. “I believe it means there are 4,590 other KillKirks.”
Talking about his screen name made him want to get online, I guess, because he said he had some work to do in the Internet Café, and then he left. That’s the last time I saw him. I hope I didn’t hurt his feelings too much.
ANYWAY.
So, left completely alone, I began a very thorough exploration of the ship. The experience was very much like the treasure hunt, so I’ll spare you the details and get to the point.
I’d been hunting for almost the whole hour and had come up with ZILCHO hotties—Euro or otherwise. I was getting ready to give up and call it a night, when, over my shoulder, I glimpsed HIM standing in the dining room. MY HOTTIE. And, oh YES, he was even EURO. I went in and talked to him, snapped his pic, and bounced (not literally—STOP laughing) back to the party and gave Gilligan the cam.
Fresh fruit smoothies were being made at the bar, so I got a strawberry one with a purple elephant perched on the rim of the glass. (I know now to steer clear of the monkeys.) More people were dancing than usual—and hugging each other and exchanging addresses and stuff—so I finally got a chance to play some foosball. There was a tournament going on (natch), and I made it three rounds before losing to the MAJOR gamer dude. (Who is from Austria, but is not anywhere near code-red. Yellow, at best.)
Then I plopped down in that same orange chair where I first saw AJ, and I spotted Tatyana and Lahn across the dance floor, looking happy. And then I saw Noori and AJ, and HE was crying now. (WHAT a sensitive guy—perhaps I should have given him more
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