I Will Forever Be ‘The Guinea Pig Girl’
Anti-life hack: faking a phone call without a phone.
‘Don’t worry,’ New Boyfriend said right before he rang the doorbell. ‘They like you.’
A month after I’d started dating him, we’d been invited to a barbecue at his friend’s house. This was back when I still thought I was an extrovert and could practically talk to anyone. I would soon find out I could not.
In my defence, the circumstances weren’t ideal. He had recently broken up with his ex-girlfriend, who was part of his friend group. We all knew each other through ballroom dancing, so it was a bit awkward to rock up as New Girlfriend. Still, I was determined to make a good impression, so I had dressed demurely, done my makeup so that I looked healthy and natural, and put on my friendliest smile.
It was a disaster. New Boyfriend enthusiastically dashed outside into the garden to talk to his Cool Friend (so cool that I didn’t dare intrude) while I was in the living room, trying to semi-casually work my way into one of the tightly-knit circles of people standing around. Whenever I did find myself in one, I would panic within seconds and quickly eject myself from the conversation.
After about ten minutes of trying to find an in, I spotted a guinea pig in the corner of the room. Perfect, I thought. Let me just go talk to it.
Let me say right now that I don’t particularly like guinea pigs. They’re like earless bunnies without the cute and fluffy bits. So I’m not sure how I managed to stand in the corner of that room and talk to a guinea pig for a good fifteen minutes.
When someone finally noticed and kindly suggested that I might want to slice some bread, I accepted gratefully — but ended up slicing bread by myself in the kitchen while everyone else went outside.
People were sitting down to eat, and though I was hungry, it was out of the question that I’d be able to get anything down. It was about then that I decided I needed to leave.
But how to make a graceful exit? I could pretend I was ill — but no, that was not believable. Another idea popped into my head: I could pretend my sister called me with an emergency.
Just as I wanted to fake the phone call, I realised I’d left my phone at home.
In hindsight, I could have gone back to the original plan and feign a headache. But somehow that thought didn’t enter my mind even for a second. I was going to fake a phone call.
Not actually having a phone wasn’t going to stop me.
I put my hand to the pocket of my jeans, announced to the assembled party that I was getting a phone call (WHO DOES THAT!?), turned a corner of the garden, pressed a non-existent phone to my ear and had a three-minute imaginary conversation with my sister. Then I ran back into the garden, told the host that I was so sorry but I had to go, my sister had an emergency, thanks so much for your hospitality, bye!!
New Boyfriend gave me a startled look. A slight frown crossed his features — probably when he remembered my whining about having left my phone at home. I gave him a peck on the cheek and ran.
I got on my bike and sobbed all the way to my parents’ house, where, to my intense relief, my sister, aunt and one of my best friends happened to be hanging out as well. Still in tears, but also slowly starting to realise how ridiculous the whole story was, I relayed my conversation with the guinea pig and the whole phone debacle.
As my family laughed and commiserated, I started to realise this might hurt my budding romance. I had made an absolute idiot of myself in front of New Boyfriends’ friends. What if he was angry? Or worse, what if he was so embarrassed he’d break up with me?
About ten minutes later, the doorbell rang. I could see through the window it was him. I got up and gingerly opened the door.
‘Hi,’ I said, my voice shaky.
He took one big step, folded me into his arms and said: ‘I’m so sorry.’
We got married last year. His friends came to the wedding — Cool Friend as his best man. I can still be a bit awkward in social situations, and my friends love ‘the guinea pig story’ so much that my reputation sometimes precedes me, but he makes up for it. He never leaves my side at parties and usually makes sure to bring up a conversational topic that I can join in on. Something like opera, or bees, or — with a mischievous grin — guinea pigs.
