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You've been talking to Chantelle for almost two months now. Despite the few things you don't like about her, it's just one particular issue that you find very hard to overlook: she doesn't know how to dress.
I mean,
I mean,
not to bash her or be an asshole but, how can you be called Chantelle and not know how to dress? Doesn't it come with the name or something? Her sense of fashion/style is exactly why you've been out on dates only twice. It's either all over the place or not there at all.
Regardless, she's a very sweet person. Today being your birthday, she wants to spend time with you in the evening at a vibrant restaurant and have karaoke later at a popular pub. It's a special day so yeah, why not?
At 5pm you receive a text from her:
"I have a surprise package for you, it'll arrive in 30 minutes
"
You start grinning like an idiot out of excitement. You don't even care how she will turn up today, nothing will ruin it. You psyche yourself.
"I have a surprise package for you, it'll arrive in 30 minutes
"You start grinning like an idiot out of excitement. You don't even care how she will turn up today, nothing will ruin it. You psyche yourself.
For the next 30 minutes you bombard her with guesses. "Is it a cake?" "Or it's you 
" "Oh wait you're bringing your cake 
"
She laughs at your guesses. "You'll love it. I know it'll look good on you. See you at 7."
On me? You break a cold sweat.
" "Oh wait you're bringing your cake "She laughs at your guesses. "You'll love it. I know it'll look good on you. See you at 7."
On me? You break a cold sweat.
You don't get to fully process it, the doorbell rings. You rush to gate to find a delivery guy on a motor. He confirms your details, hands you a wrapped package and zooms off. You cradle the package in your arms like a newborn baby and head back inside.
You unwrap the package to find a white nondescript box: no markings, no branding, nothing. You open it to find something that looks like it should be called sneakers - an all-black camboo.
Chantelle calls right then. You blink hardly twice to stop the tears that have started forming in your eyes. She doesn't hear the excitement in your voice when you pick up the phone and asks if the package has arrived yet.
"Oh it came, but..."
"But?"
"Hmm it doesn't fit o"
"Oh how? Isn't it Puman size 43? Check."
"But?"
"Hmm it doesn't fit o"
"Oh how? Isn't it Puman size 43? Check."
It's what now? You pick the camboo up from the box only to find Pu Man written boldly under it and on the side. You go silent for a few seconds and clear your throat.
"Hello Chantelle... I know you think I'm the shit but we need to talk."
"Hello Chantelle... I know you think I'm the shit but we need to talk."
