The New Advetures of

ZEROMAN

2 DUTCH COURAGE

[BACK] | [HOME] | [NEXT]

I had finished my dinner up in my room about 2 hours before. My mum could tell I was agitated about something and knew that it was best to leave me to myself at such times. I had showed her the 37 plastic bagged treasures that I had purchased that afternoon and she happily listened over a pot of tea as I poured out my new found knowledge. I must have seemed as one of the recently converted, overwhelmed by the joy and newness. She said nothing except it was good to see I was interested finally in something and maybe I'd stick at it this time. I thought that was unfair but didn't comment on it. It didn't matter. My mind flashed back to the day's events almost immediately as I mechanically ate my dinner.

After fleeing like a pillock I blindly sought out a nearby pub, one of my frequent haunts. In quick succession I bought and consumed a double whiskey. I don't like good whiskey. That burnt flavour reminds too much me of cigarette smoke. But it brutally butchered the butterflies that had invaded my stomach and set me up nicely for the half dozen pints of larger that followed. I should have eaten first but the little bastards that had attacked me outside COMIX had stolen my appetite. The moment I stood up I regretted it. My feet stuck to the floor and someone, most likely a giant bee grabbed my head stretching my body like a rubber band and mercilessly twanging my body so it jittered about crazily.

At this point my liquor-induced courage persuaded me that I have had for a long time now an interest in comics of all kinds, although somewhat unfulfilled and that I should take advantage of this opportunity. It took me quite a while to find my way back to the hidden shop front, long enough to gobble a bag of salty crisps and sober up to the extent I was no longer swaying in the non-existent breeze. The shop still had its open sign hanging in the wire-covered door and I could now see a few customers browsing within, a fact that would have seen me off in other circumstances.

I started at the front of the shop slowly paging through a box or two of new looking covers well cared for as the dates showed they were over ten years old. My 127 issues of 'Wizzer and Chips' were dog-eared from thumbing and they weren't much older. They must have a name for this kind of obsession.

At this distance I surreptitiously perused the shop, its patrons and the young woman behind the counter. I noticed that some old guy in the corner was looking her way too, he must have been 64 or something. I had this horrible picture of myself 40 years from now, still single, living this sad little existence perving at woman a 1/4 of my years. Dirty plastic Mack with the hair pasted down on my bald spot. I quickly turned my attention back to the shelf contents and soon became immersed, enjoying myself and spotting a few potential purchases.

I was really getting into my search when a tap on the shoulder saw me clear the floor sending my lanky 6'1" frame head first into a cutout rocket ship of some super villain suspended from the ceiling. I had turned to find HER standing beside me asking me if she could help me. She was quite tall, slim and had deep brown eyes, which went with her hair shoulder length, soft and fluffy. I was drawn to her eyes and her smile; the right side of her mouth curled up a little. The badge on her dark suede jacket said 'COMIX' and 'KATE' below that in a larger serif font.

She was talking and had been for a while, what was she saying? Asking me something, "was I looking for anything in particular?"

I said "No. Yes. Came in to look. Nice colours on the covers I mean. I like the pictures...like cartoons on TV." I blushed. I sure could talk crap.

She just smiled and said she could give me the beginner's introductory tour for free, if I would like.

"I like," I said and blushed again.

Okay I'm a mug. A poorer mug at that but I didn't care. I really got into the stories once I started reading them and decided to put a regular order in. It would mean going in once at least a week but that I could live with.

With that the last conscious thought for the night I drifted into a deep sleep filled with dreams of Kate and a mild hangover for an awning.

[BACK] | [HOME] | [NEXT]