Neighbour Diaries: Going detective

I couldn’t get her off my mind. I wasn’t the kind to go gaga over a girl, but something about that girl in the flat below mine kept her steadily in my thoughts.  Several times, I caught myself day dreaming about her. And yet, my plans for her didn’t include any romanticism.

Saturday, June 26, 2010

I couldn’t get her off my mind. I wasn’t the kind to go gaga over a girl, but something about that girl in the flat below mine kept her steadily in my thoughts.

Several times, I caught myself day dreaming about her. And yet, my plans for her didn’t include any romanticism.

In any case, I already had a girlfriend, I reminded myself. But it wouldn’t be long before I’d find myself thinking about her again. Too bad I knew very little about her. So, I set out to do a little detective work.

If I was to do this whole thing professionally, I had to have my facts right. Because that is what I am; A Professional Heartbreaker. According to the expert’s code for players, there are three steps to conquering anything, human or otherwise;

Step1; Identify your target;- I had already identified my target, although I tended to once in a while forget she was simply a target, and get lovey-dovey feelings about her.
Step 2; Make your move;- Skilfully, I had to come up with a master move that was going to cut clean through her defences, and leave her at my mercy.

Step three; Show no mercy;- There, that was what I was really interested in. This is where her heart gets broken. Ruthlessly, heartlessly, after all it is just a game. This is exactly what I had in mind for Miss Perfect Face.

I’d done this heartbreak routine several times, and I expected this one to be the same easy walkover. But after several long hours of careful strategizing, I failed to come up with a solid line of attack.

I decided to familiarize myself with my target before I could pick on a particular course of action.

I went info-hunting about her, asking people around, but no one seemed to know anything about her, not even the askari. Although, everyone agreed she was a piece of eye-candy.

I learnt that she has a kid brother.  And like all little boys, I assumed he liked video games. So I went and bought a video game. It was expensive, but this is a business with expenses.

Then I invited the little boy to come play video games in my flat. Within the hour, I knew the basics about the girl. I pretended to be generally interested in the kid’s entire family, so he wouldn’t suspect that I was actually after his sister.

I didn’t want him reporting back to his sister that there was a strange guy asking strange questions about her. Miss Pretty Thing was called Jasmine.  She was about 10 years older than Rogers (her kid brother), which placed her around 24 yrs of age.

The second in a family of three kids, she was the only girl. A banker by profession, she was also studying for her masters. No, she didn’t have a boyfriend, she had several boyfriends. Jasmine had a taste for classy things.

The next day was a public holiday, so I stayed home. I sat at my window all day, waiting for Jasmine to walk by so that I could stare at her. When Rogers, her little brother came in to play video game, I asked him where she was.
He said she’d left before lunch.

He didn’t know where she’d gone. Later, we heard a car pull up below. Then I heard pretty laughter. That kind of laughter could only belong to one person; Jasmine! I rushed to the window, and I saw a car. But this wasn’t just any car.

It was a long gleaming black Mercedes, tinted windows, the kind that you only see in TV adverts and auto magazines. There was this guy opening for her the door. And she was stepping out, laughing, obviously enjoying the whole thing. It was kind of romantic to watch; the guy was smart, the lady was perfect like a crystal. 

I stared at the couple, watched as she pecked him, and walked off into the building.  Boy, that girl was hot! The car drove off, and I managed to catch its number-plate as it rounded the corner; "TIMO”.

Whoever TIMO was, he certainly was a loaded fella. His Benz made my Corona seem like a rusty wheelbarrow. At least I knew the kind of competition I was up against (step1; identify your target, know everything about it).

I turned and found Rogers looking at me with an amused grin on his face. He said, "Oh boy, if I were you, I’d not even bother with Jasmine. She is a heartbreaker!” 

Ends