"I can't believe I'm doing this," I sighed, exaggerating my movements of logging into the decrepit laptop. Am I really so pathetic to chat with some random person on the internet? Clicking on my browser of choice, a small blossom of giddiness sprung up when the the page fully loaded. The chat icon screamed for my attention, highlighted brightly against the background. At first, seeing that I had messages unnerved me. Who would want to message me? It wasn't like I had written the secret to the universe on this website. I'm just a girl who works at a shop. My mum or father are no one special either, so it is not like I have a noteworthy name. Despite that, I attracted quite a group following my inner most musings.
My name is Rose Tyler, and I am addicted to my tumblr.
In the early days of my account, it was just a place for me to binge on images of my favorite shows on the telly, places I wish I had the money to visit and my favorite drinks. All visuals, that's me. Follower count a mere two people. It wasn't until a particularly drunk night that my flatmates convinced me to write down the ridiculous things floating around in my blonde head. We sat, huddled around my laptop with our alcohol and I began to write down the story I had just relayed in my drunken stupor. The next morning with a hangover in full force, I logged on to see that my follower count skyrocketed and a few messages.
I shook my head at the drunken rise to fame and clicked on my messages. It's the usual mix that greet me: a few questions, a couple fanboys creeping hard, and the one message I actually look forward to every Friday. I left that one for last, it's always better to have the excitement build as I sifted through the boring junk. His username always brought a smile upon my face.
WhosYourDoctor: You sure you haven't ever traveled? I can't believe that was all pulled out of that clever mind of yours. The last post was brilliant. No, beyond brilliant. If I didn't know better, I would swear I thought of that myself. I've done my fair share of traveling, so I would know. But you already knew that. Oh wait, that was rude. Sorry, so sorry. Ugh, I'm babbling again. Anyway, Happy Friday. Well I... it's Friday here. I don't know about you, Ms. I-Don't-Travel.
I smiled to myself at the rambling compliment. My online companion never seemed to understand the concept of editing a message, but I thoroughly enjoy that fact. It was refreshing how revealing his words were and how honest he could be with a virtual stranger. I could almost picture myself have a real life conversation going like this. Well, if I knew what he looked like that is. Sadly, I couldn't even come close to saying the same about my other pen pals.
He was always like that, rambling and all seeing, even from his very first message.
WhosYourDoctor: I usually don't message strangers, especially based on a singular post, but I am too curious not to. I can't help but admire the clever little story you posted. Such imagery and detail! Not trying to be overly analytical or anything, but please tell me that some other soul who read that understands that those creatures turned that Ricky character became plastic of him having not personality. That he probably did not deserve the heroine's time. It is so obvious you'd have to be a stupid ape to miss it! I mean, I know you're not since you created this work of brilliance, but... Oh you know what I mean. Well, I hope you do. I'm not scared of you if I did get it wrong. I doubt you bite. ;]
Oh wow, this bloke is cheeky. And long winded, geez. Most of the other messages I received were two sentences at most.
NotSoBigBadWolf: Thanks, but it can't be all that brilliant. I wrote that after a late night trip to the pub. I'm sorry to sadden you, but you are unfortunately the only one who even thought passed the literal. Everybody else just thinks it's some seriously, cheesy attempt at sci-fi. Someone even said that I should be hired to do Star Wars. HA! So you, my dear Doctor, get that reward.
Wait a mo'. Did he really say that last sentence? Oh god, he did. I don't know if I should thank or curse the fact that I again was drunk in front and on the web, but I decided to shamelessly flirt.
NotSoBigBadWolf: And who says I don't bite? I am a bad wolf and all. Plus, I will have you know that my dentists fear me and my teeth. I think you should too if you knew what's good for you.
His response came almost instantly.
WhosYourDoctor: I might be mistaken, though I doubt I am, but it clearly states "not so" before the word "bad". Usually in that case, one must assume that the latter word is intended to be at a lesser degree. So honestly, you could mean a very large Corgi or a boringly tamed wolf. I'm going to venture with the Corgi because those things are ridiculous already. Did you know they're endangered? I bet you didn't, most people don't. Corgis are actually like pandas in that respect. Everybody thinks they are cute, but they are not attracted to each other enough to make more corgis. It's really quite interesting. Any how, can I get my reward in the form of a banana tree? or maybe an all expenses paid trip to this world you created?
Maybe it was the half bottle of cheap wine in my stomach, but I was not in the mood to be compared to awkward pets of the Queen. The nerve of this person! First he compliments a girl and then insults her username. People on the internet should know better than that!
NotSoBigBadWolf: I am NOT a Corgi. I will have you know that the "not so" was in reference to the word "big" which you somehow managed to skip in order to create the delusion of small dogs with awkward legs! Honestly, I don't even know how you got to that point in the first place. On the topic of rewards, seeing as I completely made up that world, getting you there is kind of an issue. Not to even mention that you'd need a spaceship to get there. And what kind of prize is a banana tree? Is that some kind of metaphor for an orgy of men? Cause I have to say, I don't have one of those since I'm female. I mean, good for you for being so open about it. Not many people are that… Blatant about their preferences.
Okay, maybe I shouldn't 'ave been so childish, but the alcohol won over logic. I mean, all male orgies? Usually I can come up with better comebacks.
WhosYourDoctor: I'm sorry to kill the visions of massive gay orgies, but I am very much a straight male. I like bananas, as in the fruit, and that is all I meant by my statement. Clever of you to turn that right back on me.
Okay, this guy clearly isn't a walking dictionary despite his best attempts. Tyler, I think it's time to retract the claws.
NotSoBigBadWolf: Me clever? Huh, I thought I was the only one who came on here after a couple. And I didn't really need to know about your actual preferences.
WhosYourDoctor: My dear not corgi, I would like to inform you that not many people have that kind of imagination. You created a whole other world in the span of a few thousand words. Not many can do that within hundreds of pages.
I guess that's why I'm so hooked. Nobody that I had met so far in my twenty three years of life have made me feel intelligent or witty. They just see me as the average blonde chick from the cheap part of town and the daughter of the easiest widow in the history of London. Ever since then, I held out hope that someone else might truly appreciate my words.
It has been months since that initial string of messages, and he still remains the only one who saw passed the obvious. And with that thought, I was back in the present. I quickly reread his message before diving into a quick reply.
NotSoBigBadWolf: I swear I'm telling the truth! I've lived in the same city my whole life. When I was still living with my mum, it was in the same flat since I was a baby. The closest I've ever gotten to travel is watching documentaries on the telly or using the great thing called the internet. If that's what you call rude, I need to introduce you to some of my flatmates. They'd give you a proper definition of that word. I'm just glad that I managed to impress you yet again. You sure you're a doctor? I mean, you seem to be impressed too easily.
P.S. It is Friday, Mr. I-travel-more-than-humanly-possible.
I hit 'send' and returned to my average life with a quick minimizing the browser. Luckily for me, I returned to Earth just as Donna waltzed into the small living area of our flat. I loved Donna to pieces, but she is convinced that the work place is where you meet your mates, not the web. I just didn't have the energy to hear that speech again. If we hadn't be best mates since uni, I don't know what I'd do about living with her. At least Amy was more accepting of my strange friendship. Even though both of my flatmates were ginger, Amy has never been as snarky as Donna. Heck, Amy was still convinced that her imaginary friend is real. That would be the pot and the kettle if she said anything about it, if you asked me.
"Not stalking that Martian again, are ya?" Well, so much for not hearing about it.
I shook my head slowly, "Ya know that those don't even exist. And I don't stalk 'im, I can't. I don't know his name or anything".
"Oi, that's my point!" she waved her hand around as if it'd make things clearer.
After I made clear my confusion with a tilt of the head letting my hair fall to partially cover my face, she continued, "You don't even know if he's really a morbidly obese woman, let alone where 'he' lives. Honestly, he could be a bleedin' spaceman for all ya know. Not to sound like your mum, but it's like you're looking for trouble".
"Regardless of if he is who he claims, I enjoy his conversation. It's better than me crawling back to Mickey". My heart clenched at the mention of his name. You'd think that I would be over a bloke after a couple of months, but apparently not. I resigned myself to study each icon on my desktop in great detail.
"Hey, I thought we agree that his or the ho's name were forbidden in this flat! Any bloke who cheats on a great girl just cause she has a job to work is not worth acknowledging". Silence filled the air as I still refused to look at her.
"Oh honey," she continued, "you were too strong and independent for him to handle. It's his loss. If you don't cheer up, I will be dragging your mopey butt to that new pub down the street. And don't think that I will let you leave this house until you're disgustingly done up to easily get your mind off of that loser."
With an evil snicker, she left it at that and continued on to her room.
As much as I hated to admit it, my snarky flatmate had a point. I don't get to say that too often. Really, it's almost a miracle that Donna hit the nail on the head. She's usually so far off with her thoughts that it is almost comical. Anyway, I took this odd occurrence as a sign that she might be onto something.
And then I did something I never thought I would. I craved knowing that my companion was not some spaceman. Part of me simply needed to confirm that the babbling person behind the tumblr account was in fact real. To know that someone out there in the world thought I was clever. So what did I do? Well, I asked a complete stranger who they were.
NotSoBigBadWolf: Let me start this off by saying that I love our conversations, but I really need to know. Are you actually a bloke or are you a woman or alien? What are you a doctor of? Are you even a doctor? What do you do even? I don't want to end up on one of those trashy American shows revealing that my friend is someone completely different. I mean, it is the internet, so I don't expect you to share your life story, but I'm curious. Ever since we started chatting, I've been honest just so you know. I'd answer basically any question you'd ask. Sincerely hope you're not an axe murder or Martian, but I guess I wouldn't mind too much if it were the latter. Also, I understand if this weirds you out and you don't want to talk anymore. But again, Happy Friday.
Send.
Oh god, I really did that... I had just opened a potentially huge can of worm. Was I really ready to shed my anonymity just to maybe gain a friend who isn't a psycho? Maybe I just pushed away the one person who saw the meanings of my posts. Groaning, I let my anxiety settle and tried to focus on cleaning my flat. If only my mum could see me, she'd never believe it. Then again, she did not really believe many of the changes I made after Mickey.
It started with the biggest change of all, my move out of the Powell estates and across town. Mum was not too happy about that, but then she quickly realized the benefits of having me out of the flat. Then there were the little changes. I stopped dating the first bloke who took notice of me. My evenings are now spent cleaning, writing or looking for a better job.
Rose Tyler, full fledge adult. Or at the very least trying now that I don't have many reasons to remain a child. Who knew how difficult it would be for a girl to try and get a job without having finished uni. But with how the world works, ya can't go to uni without money to do so. Vicious cycle it is.
Of course, my mum still loved him.
"Ya've known each others since ya were babes, why are ya throwing that away? He was always so sweet, coming around to fix things. Ya know that hasn't been easy since ya dad passed, bless his soul," she used to pester.
Oh Mickey, why did you have to be such an idiot? I thought we were okay. How was I supposed to know that working more than the bare minimum would be considered a great sin? In the end, he prefered some slag still crawling her way through medical school than the friend who know had always been there. More insecurities pounded their way to the surface. If a bloke from my part of town couldn't accept me, who would?
I chewed my lip in anticipation for my tumblr companion's response. Reverted back to a nasty habit from childhood, I have. How would he react to the fact that this situation twisted me up inside that I ran straight to my old bad habits?
His response came a half hour after my message.
WhosYourDoctor: Where did this come from? Not complaining, you're smart to have asked and I like a clever mind. Still curious though. I can assure you that I'm of this world. umm… Unless I have some severe memory loss, I don't believe that I killed anybody, axe or otherwise. I also can assure you that I am a bloke. Not your average, but still a bloke. I don't know how to prove that to you. Well, I do know, but I'm not stooping to sending those type of pictures. Just a small, but very significant tidbit is, as you mentioned earlier, I am Mr. I-travel-more-than-humanly-possible. I can pretty much be wherever in a drop of a hat. Want to just meet up some time?
Oh god, did he just say that?
I don't know how long I stared at my screen, watching to see if the words were a delusion. A minute? Five? A hour? I still couldn't really comprehend the meaning of it. He really wanted to meet me. Rose Tyler who worked at a shop and spent way too much time blogging.
Well, here goes nothing.
NotSoBigBadWolf: Well, how soon can you get to London?