Simon Says "Game Over"

It is recommended that you read the previous columns listed below before reading the following column:

The Reason To Rebound
No Pressure Over Cappuccino


Midweek, 12 noon, a rare opportunity arose where the sun stayed out long enough over Dublin city centre for myself and Simon (my highly educated, highly frustrated friend) to eat lunch in the great outdoors of South William Street.

As the tables began to fill and our fiery-haired waitress approached to take our order, I realised that I had not yet glanced at the menu, for there were far more pressing items on the agenda: Simon's love-life, circa the last three months.

The couple, who split in January this year one week after my 21st intimate birthday dinner at the Morrison (coincidentally under that very roof), reconcilliated their love at the beginning of the summer, and while I was apprehensive, I was glad to see Simon glow once again. Not for long, it would seem.

In Simon's eyes, the reunion would mean that the couple could resume couple-oriented activities, you know, kissing, sex...and mini breaks. Mini-breaks, Simon would soon discover, were the only thing on the menu. I sympathised, and yet I wondered what was the underlying problem of the Dark Lord that meant sextra curricular activities must be ruled out. I couldn't help but wonder, had the fact that Simon had made the decision to dump the Dark Lord back in January encouraged growth in the gaping hole that was the Dark Lord's self-esteem?

That lack of self-esteem was endearing at first, though with self-esteem, come side-effects. He possessing the low esteem requires the feeling of control, and when that control is given, well, everything is hunky dory. However, when control is taken away, out comes the self esteem monster...revenge.

The well disguised revenge included a "no labels" rule. Simon was in hell. Well, he was in Aldi when he really wanted to be in Superquinn, and let's face it, that's pretty much the same thing. "This is not a relationship, it's a trial", said the Dark Lord. Simon couldn't help but feel like a lab rat. Pessimism, naturally, was order of the day, and sprinkled on the relationship, apologies, "not relationship" at any given opportunity.

Suffice to say, after his fun, the Dark Lord decided that the flight home from said mini break was the ideal moment to terminate the relationship. As I had suggested weeks prior, this would happen at a time when it was least expected by Simon, just to allow the Dark Lord have added kicks.

Simon, once again, had been booted, full force, out of the driver seat. "I just feel, had I not gone back into it the first time I would be totally over the entire issue now", he told me, toying with his fish cakes, which at this point were as cold as his love life. "And now, I'm here, basically hijacked", he said despairingly.

"Well there's only one thing you can do now", I interrupted. "And that is to viciously cut the toxic Dark Lord out of your life, if not for good, for an extended period".

"You know what", my anxiety-ridden friend announced, sounding more powerful than before, "Simon Says Game Over".

And just like that, I realised, I had hardly touched my Tandoori Chicken, which was still mid air on fork, for I was far too busy devouring the contents of Simon's non-labelled mess. It re-enforces the thought that, we are far more interested in stories of doom and gloom that those of hope and happiness.