Westeros > King’s Landing Area > King’s Landing > Personals > Casual Encounters
Alone on Christmas? Mad At Dad?
I am a 29 year old felon with no high school degree, visible tattoos, long hair, and a dirty old van, one year younger than me painted like Eddie Van Halen’s guitar. I also have a souped up “death” car. Your choice. I can play anywhere between the ages of 25 and 35, depending on if I shave. I’m a damn good line cook at one of the greasiest diners in town, and work late nights at a bar on the weekends. My specialty drink is anything involving rum. Due to a childhood incident, I also have some wicked looking scars on half my face that are guaranteed to worry your parents. I can say I got them from my time in prison.
If you’d like to have me as your strictly platonic date for Christmas, or any family gathering for that matter, but have me pretend to be in a very long term or serious relationship with you, to torment your family, I’m game.
I can do the following, at your request:
-Openly hit on other female guests while you act like you don’t notice
-Start instigative discussions about politics and/or religion
-Propose to you in front of everyone (really cheap ring or a Ring Pop, your choice)
-Pretend to be really drunk as the evening goes on (I don’t drink much anymore, but I used to, a lot, so I know the drill)
-Start an actual, physical fight with a family member, either inside or on the front lawn for all the neighbors to see
I require no payment, but the free meal I will receive as a guest, and possible gas money if it requires going out of King’s Landing.
• do NOT contact me with unsolicited offers or services
November 27 - Sansa
“Aunt Lysa is calling me. Why is Aunt Lysa calling me?” Arya asked her sister. Sansa looked down, guilt written as clearly across her face as if it had been written on her forehead.
“Um... I may have declined her calls…for the past week?” Sansa said, her voice rising in pitch. She was terrible at keeping secrets, but this was just so embarrassing!
“Uh, ok, spill.” She declined the call from their aunt, but Arya was old hat at that. Sansa, on the other hand, she was practically a mini clone of Catelyn Stark, sister to their crazy aunt, and the personification of the Tully Code. She could have a tattoo of Family, Duty, Honor on her arm and no one would bat an eye. She never avoided family, and to do so would mean something awful. And it was awful. Not world-shattering. More like I dropped a glass, it shattered into a million pieces, and now I have to pick them up by hand.
“Aunt Lysa is… Remember how she decided to play matchmaker with Robb?”
“Yeah, of course. Set up a blind date with Merry Frey. They hit it off and got married, two kids.” Arya sipped her coffee. That was old news.
“And how she matched up Jon?”
“Never thought he'd go for a wildling girl, but I love Ygritte,” Arya said. “I even like their hellspawn.”
“Me too. She's great. And what about Theon?”
“He's still dating Olyvar, another match by Aunt Lysa.” Again, old news.
“And you and Pod?”
“Complete fluke that I fell for him, but yeah.” Arya was getting impatient.
Sansa winced. “Well, she decided to set her sights on me, except…”
“All her matches are terrible! Five guys! And all five of them are either creeps or gay! Now she's bugging me about this other one, so I've… been…” She sighed. “I've been avoiding her. Mom says she's invited the guy to Christmas dinner. And if we were having Christmas at Winterfell this year, she could do something about it…”
“But Aunt Lysa is hosting this year,” Arya finished for her.
“Yeah. And I can't avoid Christmas!” Sansa slumped across their kitchen table. Her dog, Lady, lay her head down on the table as well, looking back and forth between the two Starks. “Maybe I should just meet the guy…”
“Or you could take a stand. Prank her. I know a guy. Well, Pod knows a guy. He's been doing this for a few years now. Basically, he hires himself out as a fake boyfriend. Only asks for gas money and a free meal. He's got a personal ad. Lemme look it up.” Arya went over to their computer and started searching Craster’s List. “Here we go! Super easy to find.”
Sansa came over and read the ad over Arya's shoulder. “Scars? Tattoos? I don't know, I just want Aunt Lysa to stop. I get the feeling this will just make it worse.”
Arya swiveled in her chair to face Sansa. “Ok, hear me out. This may or may not work, but it would be really funny no matter what. Hire the guy. Get him to do the whole act. Then at the end, tell her the truth, and then say you appreciate her efforts, but you'll find love when you find it. Sort of like a shock therapy treatment, I suppose.”
“I don't know… is he actually a nice guy?”
“Hell if I know. You could meet him? Talk to him about it? Like I said, Pod knows him. It would be easy to set up a meet.”
“I guess that would be ok…”
Arya grabbed her phone and texted furiously. “Ok, he'll meet you this evening at the diner he works at. Seven ‘o clock. Don't be late.”
Sansa got to the diner at fifteen ‘til seven. He was not kidding about the grease, she thought as she walked into the place. She could feel the difference in the air as soon as she stepped inside. Pod had given her the guy's number and she texted him to let him know she was there already and apologized for being early.
SClegane: don't worry about it. be with you in a minute. sit at the end of the counter, near the kitchen door.
She sighed and found the spot he indicated. The place was nearly empty, but from what she could tell, the diner’s rush hours were at the beginning and ends of shifts. Ah, shift work. I do NOT miss that. She ordered a coffee from the waitress, a busty redhead named Ros, and waited for this Sandor guy to make an appearance.