Author Junk

The Statue ‘An IRL Story About My Ex-Boyfriend’s Stupid Decisions’

Statue, noun
noun: statue; plural noun: statues
  1. a carved or cast figure of a person or animal, especially one that is life-size or larger.

This is a true story of mine I would like to give to you guys about my ex-boyfriend and the silly things he used to do when we were together. I’ll call him ‘Nash’, as that’s one of the names he goes by, but not his real name, to protect his identity in case.

Now, ‘Nash’ is quite the character. Being a mechanic in training and having a personality and humor sense exactly like mine, we got along swimmingly the first time we were introduced by a mutual friend. We’ve had a couple of moments and rough patches and then finally broke up a little while ago. It wasn’t a great time for me.

Anyway, for my birthday (which is in February), my Mum decided that it would be fun if she could let me go somewhere, so she decided to pay for a weekend at a hotel by the beach for me and ‘Nash’ offered to come. Though ‘Nash’ is a couple of years younger than I am, he is far more orientated in the adult world than I, so she agreed that he should come with me and make a couple thing out of it. Which we did.

For a whole day, we went to 2 theme parks (I got a new pair of slippers for winter and pet baby goats, so yay!) and then went to dinner at a fancy restaurant. The next and last day, we decided to go into the center of town to explore, as the place we went to I hadn’t been to in a couple of years.

We explored space without leaving the ground (fun AF), did a good deed and had ice cream while taking photos of the things around us that we found funny (including a place called ‘Condom Kingdom’, which obviously something not to go near in our minds), before ending up outside an exhibit that was running across from a Build A Bear workshop (I didn’t get to go in 😦 ) and the arcade (which we did go to and waste money in after this).

After paying our fees (which wasn’t much), we walked around the exhibit for a while. It was an exhibit for people who believed in the far fetched, in legends and liked facts and oddities alike. Someone like me and also, someone like him. However, as we have established, my stupid ex- boyfriend does some rather silly things, I knew this already, but I was about to find a whole other layer to his madness.

In the corner of the beginning of the exhibit, there was a pair of statues. Heavily decorated and laid out for all to see, they stood on a wooden podium. According to their plague, the owner of the exhibit (who’d died several years ago now) had found them in the jungle somewhere in a small nation and they had decided to bring them back to America (where he was originally from) for people to look at.

It also listed on the plague that the were fertility statues, statues apparently with the power to assist in the making and conception of children if touched. They were apparently so powerful, that the legend stood true, being there was a video playing next door of several testimonies from couple who’d had children thanks to touching the statues.

Now, at this point, my ‘Nash’ decides it would be funny to dare me to touch the statues. Being a big believer in superstitions, including having a cursed game (see ‘Rap Rat IRL’), I refused. He laughed and kept trying to egg me on, before I turned the dare on him. Little did I think he would reach out a finger and do it though. Which he did.

This action would come back to haunt him as no longer than a couple of hours after, about the time we left the arcade, that he would start feeling sick.

All through the rest of the afternoon, including the drive home and several days after, he felt nauseous, he ate a lot more than normal and his chest hurt very badly. To top that, his belly (he already had a small pot belly to begin with) had rounded out to push against his shirts and it just gave me material to tease him to the point of annoyance till finally, about a week later, the symptoms disappeared.

Though he had blamed it on a cold and tried to object to the fact it wasn’t the statues’ fault at all, I knew better. There was literally a paper you could tear off at the bottom to get an official certificate from the exhibit to say your child was one of hundreds born thanks to these statues helping. Sorry asshat, but I claim bragging rights on this one. Hopefully your mates do not find this.

Scott – 1     World – 0

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