Kicking off 2012

Going to be getting back in to regular writing now with the Uni semester kicking off officially next week. So hopefully I should be putting up regular weekly short stories. As I'm usually using this space to experiment with styles and genres I'd like to try some light-hearted writing and work on getting some more humorous stories going. It should be a pretty good contrast to the latest batch of darker stories. As always I'd love any feedback on the writing, especially if I'm trying out more comedic stuff, to see if my sense of humour is hitting the mark.

Here's something I wrote a while ago to kick things off and hopefully I'll have new content up next week. Happy reading.

Ken
By Tim Harvey

“Girls want Ken dolls.”
I sipped my drink and shook my head, “It's not about looks.”
“No not looks or anything like that,” Rob said. “They want pre-packaged men.”
“Explain.”
“Well, they want a pre-packaged man. A guy that they can pull out of the box totally complete.”
“What? With like a full wardrobe?”
Rob shook his head. “Don't be stupid.” He sipped his drink. “What do all Ken dolls have?”
“A full wardrobe.”
“Okay, but what do all Ken dolls represent?”
“I don't know.” I looked towards the bar.
“A complete lifestyle. Or, more importantly, a complete pre-packaged life.”
I thought about this. Rob looked at me knowingly and continued, “Ken has it all. He has a job, different depending on what Ken you get. He has a car, usually some red convertible. He has a fucking house for God's sake. The bloke has it all.”
“So?”
“So? So that's what women want.” Rob sipped his beer. The virtuous sage had struck again.
“Red convertible eh? So he's probably a professional.” It made sense.
“Now you're getting it,” Rob nodded. “Doctor Ken, astronaut Ken, fucking... I don't know, lawyer Ken.”
“I see.” And I did.
“Pre-packaged man.”
“A pre-packaged man.” I sipped my beer thoughtfully. “His house is like some two-storey villa right?”
“I don't know, probably.”
“That son-of-a-bitch is loaded,” I slammed my fist against the table.
“No,” Rob sighed. “It's not about money.”
“What then?”
“How do you think Ken got to be a fucking doctor with a red convertible and a two-storey town house?”
“Villa.”
“Fine, villa. Well?”
“Well,” I mused. “How does anyone become a doctor, with a red convertible and a two-storey villa? Hard work I suppose.” I sipped again, glancing at the bar. There was a pretty blonde there sipping a cocktail. She looked like a Barbie.
“Yeah sure. But why does one work so hard to get those things?”
“Forceful parents?”
“Goddamn it! Be serious.”
“You're comparing women's wants and desires to a line of girl's toys.” I raised an eyebrow at Rob.
He sighed, “Yes. Okay, but it's what the toys represent. Girls have been clamouring to get their hands on a Ken doll since the middle of the century. Why is that?”
“Who else is Barbie supposed to fuck?” I raised my eyebrows at the blonde. She looked away dissaprovingly.
“Sure, but look at it like this. Barbie is the girl. Barbie wants Ken. Therefore the girl wants Ken. I'm asking – No, I'm telling you why!”
“Why then?” I returned my gaze to Rob. He had a mad glint in his eye, as if he had discovered something amazing.
“Because, he is pre-packaged. He comes out of the box with a degree and a fucking Ferari.”
“I don't think they could get the rights to a Ferari.” I liked pushing him.
“Whatever. But do you get what I mean?”
“Sure, girls want a guy that comes complete. They want to wander aimlessly around until one day some bloke rocks up who has all his shit sorted.” Rob raised his eyebrows is surprise, I continued. “A guy who has drive, ambition and motivation, but not only that, he's already put it to good use. He's a fucking doctor.” I sipped bitterly and eyed up Barbie at the bar.
“Exactly.”
“Exactly,” I sipped. “So, where does that put us?”
Rob thought about this. “Well, I certainly don't have a car. And you still live with your parents. We're both struggling with degrees that we don't care about. Where's your ambition lately?”
“I don't know. Fair point though.” I finished off my pint. “So, you're saying that I have to have my life complete before a girl will want me?”
Rob laughed. “Here's the kicker. You ready for this?”
I nodded.
“Some girls don't like lawyers. Some girls don't like doctors. You complete your life and you're cutting out all the girls that could love you!”
“So we're doomed.” I nodded and smiled.
“Not necessarily. Do you know what I want in a girl? In a relationship?” Rob finished his pint.
“Pussy?”
“Fuck! Goddamn it!” Rob slammed his empty glass on the table. “I have no drive, I have no ambition. I could be a fucking doctor! I want a girl that wants me to be a doctor!”
“You don't want to be a doctor.”
“That's my point. I could be a doctor if a girl wanted me to. If she came up to me and said; 'Rob I want you to b a doctor,' I'd join a fucking medical school. And do you know why?”
“Why?”
“Because, I want a girl to give me ambition. I want a girl to give me motivation, guidance, love. I have no fucking clue what I want to do with my life. But if a girl came to me and said she loved me! Well, I'd be anything she wanted.”
I looked back at Barbie. Did she want a Ken doll? Or a lump of clay, like Rob here? “But do girls want to make a man?”
“No, they want a fucking pre-packaged man.”
I thought about this. “Drinks?”
“You're buying.”