The Rupe Origin Story

The night was young. So why was poor Charlie sitting there, defeated before the battle had begun? It was because he was the worst speed dater out there. Tonight was another round of rejections, humiliations and triumphs for misfits and the shy of heart.Tonight was the night where love was at stake; everyone of the lonely wolf pack wanted to hunt down their share. Poor Charlie, he had a fear of women.

His fear (well, to be exact: his bad luck) of women went as far back as to when he was a little kid who was playing at the playground with twins, Lynnie and Minnie. he was showing them how to blow a booger out of the nose and shoot it very far. Poor Charlie! the girls thought he was gross and decided to pin him down and piled mounds of dirt on him and hopefully buried him out of the twins' existence.

Another incidence was when Charlie asked out the cutest girl in high school. He was a very poor soul that day. The sun shining and clouds whispering sweet nothings, poor Charlie was dressed from the toe nails up in formal regalia of his Scottish hergitage. For Heritage Day, at least that is what someone told him the day before from the foot ball team. By the time he had enough nerve to venture towards the Brat Pack by the cesspool of human animosity (known as the High School Cafeteria), they looked at him and screamed at the top of their whiny lungs, "Look at that sweaty beast! Kill him! Kill him before he takes us away and makes us his yeti girlfriends!"

Maybe it was his lack of confidence, or his lack of charisma, but it seemed women were repelled by him. He was not an ugly person; forbid him he wasn't! His chiseled chin and dark wavy hair whisked in the gentle fantasy wind on those cloudy days at the beach and his eyes were a vivid green and were electric when he found that a new edition of his favorite role playing game came out. His skin was a natural brown shade. It was darker and bronze in the summer and was paler yet glowing in the winter months. His hair though, it was everywhere! Hairy legs, hairy arms, hairy back and hair everywhere else...

As luck would have it for Charlie, men seemed to adore him. They played with his wavy hair, cuddled him because of his beautifully sculpted body, and they even wanted to date him for just being a good, decent person. "Nothing in return." They would all say. These were the people that Charlie respected and enjoyed his company with the most, but his truest feelings were saved for women. He always dreamt of women, got infatuated with the vixens. He also wanted to have a family one day. The men of his life were true friends and loyal, if nothing else, resilient and loving. They weren't women, and that was the truth.

His friends respected that. They encouraged him to be who he was. If women only wanted a shaved, bare skinned man, Charlie wasn't the man for them. If there was a woman who could care less, that lady would be lucky to ever meet Charlie in her lifetime. Hence his follied attempt, his fool's truth, to try out speed dating at the glamorous bar, The Rupe.


"Good evening ladies and gentlemen," monotonous, Charlie thought, as the guy droned onwards, "tonight I'll be your host for the evening. My name is Bob and I'll be the go to guy for anything your hearts desire." If that was a double entendre, that would explain why three women left that sat closest to Bob. "The rounds are set up for four minutes a piece, so if you want to talk to a particular person some more, it would be alrght to leave with them from the speed dating tables. If you feel bored or irritated, you may leave on those basis as well. It is also..."

On and on he went with the tedious time consuming rules. Charlie whistled softly to a popular love song he heard when he first arrived, as he got to the chorus, another song bird chirpped up to finish the chorus. Charlie looked around; all were faces of eagerness, worrying frows and stoic pervertedness. With a sigh, he started again hoping to call out to her once more.

Anxiety had gotten the best of him. He tapped absently while the volunteers were splitting people up onto tables and giving them a pop cap. Each person was given one to participate a little side game for the night. If two people had found each other with the same numbered cap, they both get a free drink on the house, regardless of the price. That was a good reason to come, for Charlie, The Rupe had over priced, fabulous drinks that were beyond the money he was willing to spend. In fact, it took twenty dollars to from Charlie's wallet to be speed dating tonight. To ahve his favorite drink, it would be fourteen dollars. Why Charlie bothered to come, shooting his self esteem yet again, was even beyond his logic.


Two hours in and no one had a single interesting thing to say. "Oh my gawd, si that shirt on sale? I like it a lot!" "Ooh. a writer you say? Well I guess you would need some new ideas, eh? I can give some inspiration if you ever need it." "Man that haircut looks kickin'! I wished girls thought I was as hot as you, but hey, what can you do? I feel like leavin' do you?"

Man after woman, people barraged Charlie with ideas and weak pick up lines. he was tired and everyone started to feel bored and industrialized. He wanted to hide in his den at home. He started to regret ever coming and wanted to only discover his favorite stories of elves and magic, to read first hand adventures of barbarians and war lords. He wanted to write stories of great tales, but instead, he decided having a social was more mature for a saturday night. What a horrible idea. Why did he ever think he can find someone who was geeked out enough to come to a place like this?

The last round was called and was set for eight minutes for the determined-to-get-laid folk. Charlie was deciding whether to flirt the Toad Lady across from him or to feed her a fly. When time was almost up, a young lady, wearing a dress, coloured tan that faded into a wispy orange, accidentally bumped into Charlie while he was getting up.

"I'm sorry! I was trying to get away so I can escape the furball over there... "
"He told me he was bi. Did he tell you?"
"Naw, men don't really come out and say that. Are you?"
"I wonder some days..."
"Where's your 'date'?"
"Probably looking flies elsewhere."
"May I join you then?"
"Of course, if you don't mind my Toad's sweaty chair."
"Was she completely wasted?"
"I hope so, her eyes were pretty muched glossed and her face a light green."
"Well irregardless-"
"Regardless, you mean."
"Haha... well regardless, I will forget everything once I get to look at you and your well groomed hair."
"You find me handsome? What about that furball over there?"
"You're groomed, at least you smell nice and understand that intercourse has more than one meaning."
"Well, I'm willing to shave only my chest and back, but everything else stays."
"Deal."

They sat there for a brief moment, alowing a long look in each other's eyes. Something about her was immaculate and endearing. He couldn't put his finger on it. At least for now, he finally had a companion that could keep him attentive and carry an excellent conversation. Maybe there was hope after all."

"I like you eyes! They are amazing and shine like Sapphires. Though, I think you're hiding them behind your bouncy dark hair.
"Good thing I'm not fake then! I would have to spend hours every day to look pretty for. I'm part Mexican and part French. I'm a snob with too much passion for romance. Hard combination though, I tend to scare off men. Aw well, that's the way of love, eh?"
"I tend to attract them. And yes! it really is the love of love."
"Then you really are an asset to me! I'll just hang out with you and finding a lucky guy."
"But of course. We can score some hot men tonight."

Perma-grins. That's what Charlie thought as he took a quick swig as he looked at har again.

"Well it's getting late. Oh look! Our bottle caps have the same number."
"Um, I don't think so. Mine's upside down. See?"
"Then too bad mine's right side up."

What a cheesy line. It looked like it worked, but she suddenly got a phone call from her distressed mother. She made her apologies and rushed out of the bar. Poor Charlie drank the last of his third Cosmo and called for a taxi. While he waited, he sang that song again... only to realize he was singing "The Way of Love" by Cher.