Ralph

D and me met in true nerd fashion, over the Internet. To be exact, we met while playing World Of Warcraft. He and I were in the same large role playing guild (for you non dorks a guild in WoW is a fancy name for a bunch of friends who bash the heads of monsters in together and give ourselves a hopefully impressive sounding title), and once we discovered that we had the same sense of humour in common the rest was history. This greatly pleased the members of the guild, as it meant we would stop making them listen to our highly inappropriate jokes and tell them to each other. That was the theory anyway.

Right.

D played a mild mannered, soft spoken magic wielding warlock fellow who had the bad luck to be one of the walking dead and missing a lower jaw. Y’all can surely see the sex appeal. The tart played a cannibalistic obnoxiously loud orc woman who ran around heavily armed and looking for a fight. So help me the first one of you who mentions the resemblance gets clocked. Ahem. Where was I? Oh yeah, the warlock! D’s charming character was also known for roaming around with a giant undead spider he’d named Ralph! Why is this relevant you ask (and have been asking since I started this story)?

The first time D came to pick me up for a real date, he was in full gentleman mode. Opened my door for me, ushered me into his truck… the truck that he’d gotten out of just a few minutes before with this long stretch of denim covered leg and black booted foot that just… darn it, wandering again. Right! He opened my door and helped me into the truck… only to have me shriek at the top of my lungs and come hurtling back out so fast I about knocked the both of us to the concrete! Hanging from the top of the cab, right over the passenger seat was a large spider swaying cheerfully from a web line. To this day, I’ve accused him of bringing Ralph.