Billboard

Bill had been living in London for two weeks when he was suddenly struck with an overwhelming feeling of loneliness. He didn’t have any friends in the city and it was harder than he thought it would be to get to know the people he worked with. They all seemed so closed off and although they were polite enough to make idle chat about their weekends and their hobbies, they maintained an attitude that said ‘I have enough friends, thanks. I don’t need friends at work.’

So Bill knew he had to figure out a way of meeting people who would welcome him warmly into their lives.  He came up with a perfect idea. He would create a BillBoard.

He’d fill it with information about himself, his interests, opinions, hopes and dreams, put a dashing picture of himself on it and his contact details and let people get in touch with him if they wanted to be friends. And BillBoard was funny, he thought, because it was a billboard all about him, and he was called Bill, and people would laugh and laugh and email him immediately, begging to be his friend.

So Bill typed up pages of information about himself and took a photo of himself in the bathroom mirror. He pinned it all up on a board round the corner from his house with a huge banner that said ‘BillBoard! (heehee, be my friend?)’, and waited for the emails to come pouring in.

And they did. His stomach flipped as he saw them in his inbox and he clicked on the first one, which read

Hey Bill-end,

Hope you die alone.

Bye.

Bill frowned. He assumed Bill-end was a play on ‘bell-end’, which he didn’t think was a very clever or humorous pun at all. He deleted the email and read the next.

Billy No Mates! Hahahahahahahahahaahgsahgashaaa.

That wasn’t a very constructive email at all, thought Bill. He deleted it and opened another.

Bill,

Bit of advice… flush the toilet before you take photos in your bathroom. Nothing puts off potential friends than a big turd photobombing your picture.

Cheers.

Bill blushed. At least this one was helpful. He sent a quick thankyou reply and decided he would have to go down to his BillBoard and remove his picture.

Then he saw an interesting looking email in his inbox with the subject line that read ‘I have seen that we are going to meet…’ He opened it, and all that was written was an address below the words ‘Psychic Night, tonight, 8pm.’

It was 7.30pm, so Bill threw on his coat, made a note of the address and off he went.

And that’s how BillBoard led Bill to his new girlfriend, Ouija.

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