Why Pink Is Not For Boys

Posted: April 1, 2012 in Back To The Edge

I am in Essex, in a car with Big Boots looking for the house of Louise, the keyboardist friend of Phil’s lawless fiancée who’s putting us up tonight. I decide to call her. Big Boots grins.

Hey Dan, do you remember…

Yes I do!

The last time I phoned a girl while driving somewhere with Big Boots, he kept shouting the name of the girl I was calling in a high-pitched voice while I tried to leave a message. He nearly cost me a weekend in Northampton.

We should do that again!”

I turn to Big Boots. And smile, for we are nowhere near Northampton. I press the green button.

Hang on… what if she picks up before it goes to answer-phone?”

…Do it anyway!”

Suddenly an Essex Girl accent bursts into my ears like a child bursting into a room and knocking over a massive tank full of circular saw-piranha cross-breeds.



A few minutes later a cheerful Louise introduces us to her housemate, whose kids are at their father’s, meaning we get their rooms.

Bagsy the boy’s room!”

Drat! Big Boots may have just bagsied the boy’s room. I smile, for at least he didn’t ‘shotgun’ it. For that would be American. And he hasn’t got the meat.

I’m sure the girl’s room’s alright. Not all that girly, and anyway! I’m a real man. I can handle it.”

Big Boots is grinning like grins are down to 4p on reduced.


Yours is across the hall, Dan.”

Louise grins. I grin a little too. I like a girl who likes reduced. I walk into my room.

It’s pink.

It’s pinker than that!

It’s like a load of pink fairies have had a pink rave and thrown up a load of pink all over the pink panther. I toss my bag in, and run downstairs to the safely magnolia lounge where Louise and her housemate are already guitar heroes. Big Boots enters. And grins.

“Shut up.”

Would you like a drink, Dan?” asks Louise cheerfully. Humm. A difficult question, for I am a guest. I want liquid, but if I ask for something expensive, they may not have much left; but then how often would you really pick water over coke?

What have you got?”

I deftly evade the question and wait for the automatic baseball-machine of options to chuck out a ball I want to drink.

Vodka and lemonade?”

I’m new to drinking, but I know what vodka and lemonade is. It’s code. Like ordering curries. It’s a secret language! Once you speak Curry you can make up your own! Vodka and lemonade is code for Smirnoff Ice! My Aston Villa drink. I think of Paul McGrath, and smile. And enjoy having knees.

Minutes later Louise arrives with a glass of clear liquid. I am confused, as she cheerfully puts it in my hands! Mysterious liquid! I can’t escape! This is probably how Captain Scarlet always felt. Or was it Captain Planet? I sigh, and sip, and immediately regret this decision. Big Boots grins, sipping his tap water. I put the potion down and grab a guitar as the girls get excited and talk over each other with ever-increasing pitch. Big Boots and I sit staring with bewilderment as they talk about girly things. Like…erm. Menopause. Or Nicholas Lyndhurst. We realise that they’re paying no attention to us, and decide to test the waters.



Big Boots spurts tap water out of his nose. I laugh, and wonder briefly if he is a tap, but decide he probably isn’t my cousins.

Sunlight claws at the outsides of my eyelids. It’s morning, and I’m in bed.

I’m in a little girl’s bed!

I open my eyes. And feel my masculinity falling away faster than Chelsea managers or John Terry’s integrity as my eyes breathe in the now illuminatedhordes of pink girlishly trying to braid my hair without limbs! I get up. And run. Traumatised. I breathe. But something’s wrong. I feel different! Like somehow I have been infected! What has pink done to me?! It’s probably nothing. It’s probably just me. It’ll probably be fine. I head downstairs, where Big Boots is eating cheerful-host-made breakfast.

Morning Lorraine.”


I look blankly.


My name’s Louise.”


Oh! Of course! I’m so sorry!”

Louise accepts my apology and we head to band, where I have an idea for a keys bit. “Laura?” Laura looks at me with wide eyes. I’m in trouble. But I don’t know why.



Oh! Of course! I’m so sorry!” The practice continues, and we come to the signing of the register songs. The keys part is key. I turn to ask if my host is as good to go as Jodie Foster.



Hang on… I knew her name last night! That’s it! This is all pink’s fault! It’s made me keep forgetting Laura’s name! I try to explain my labelling-lapses.

Laura stares at me blankly.


It is two weeks later and the wedding band are arriving. Including her. The girl who gave me pink problems. I smile. For I have recovered. I greet her. Cheerfully.

Morning, Lorraine.”


More silence than that.

Oh! No! Linda!”

She mutters something and walks away.


Big Boots grins.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s