The story of Ug.
Imagine the scene. It’s 260,000 years ago, and you’re on the hunt for a girlfriend, or in those days someone to procreate with. World population is around the 800,000 mark of what is considered your species. Let’s say half of that number is as near to female as you’re likely to get so that narrows down the date situation a little. So, you’re a bit Neanderthal but in your eyes, you’ve got everything going for you, own cave, own spear collection and a mate called Ig that keeps going on about this bloody “wheel” Idea he’s had, say’s it’s going to revolutionise farming. Yeah, yeah, yeah. ( Yes, I know when the first wheels started to appear, are you telling this story or me?)
So, you’re an upbeat Neanderthal around the village, wear the latest skins, got one of those new flint spear heads, as much meat as you can eat, in fact, you’re bloody sick of meat, but you’re not too keen on greens and you prefer the high protein diet, keeps you looking good. Just need someone to invent gravy, that’s all. Right, what you need now is a bird, someone to keep the cave clean, maybe have a few little Ugs and settle down. In fact, you read on the cave wall somewhere that there might be an Ice age coming, so, better get on with it.
Now, there is the little problem of what is considered dating. In recent times you’ve been back to using the club, bop on the back of the dates head and off you go. ( Think Rohypnol but leaves a lump on the back of the head.) So is it time to retire Mr Club and try a different tactic? Well, what’s to lose and of course, it’s going to be a long winter. So, what about that little tease you keep getting the eye from down at the camp fire? Ek. She’s lovely and going by the lack of bumps on the back of her head she must be single right? With that do you think she’s go for the old “Club and thump?” No, I don’t think so either. So, what are you going to do? No, put the big thigh bone down, it’s time for something new.
Ug sat down and had a good bloody think. Club bad, so, that’s the club out. Bone bad, so that’s the bone out. In fact you’ve never found a use for that thing, throw it away before it does someone a mischief. What else is there though? Strangle? Not the best idea, but then wait quarter of a million years and you’ll find people that will pay Ug for that kind of thing. Talking’s out of the question too, too much grunting and pointing. Then it suddenly dawned on him. Touch. He would see her down at the fire tonight and begin to touch her, maybe add in a few smiles, bit metrosexual, but hey, is this smiling thing so wrong?
That night Ug went down to the camp fire, togged up in his favourite furs, rubbed some meat fat into his hair and beard, rubbed some flowers into the skin causing a bit of a rash but did tone down the smell of body odour. Even put a small bone on some twine and hung it around his neck just like Uff, and Uff always had a woman in tow. Or was that was always towing a woman……. Usually by the hair. Spying Ek over by the fire she looked lovely, nice new furs, hair all tangled and matted, she looked the epitome of 260,000 years B.C. of chique. Strolling over he caught her eye, the wind was blowing up a bit and the fire was blazing away. She looked at him, looked straight into his eyes, then away, losing his gaze.
Within a few minutes he was in front of her, just a couple of feet away when she spoke out to him.
“Cloob?” Ug nodded. She smiled, no lumps on the back of her head tonight then, it’s a fear she hid from the other women, she didn’t want to come across as thinking she was better than the others, even though, deep down she thought she was. Ug stood behind her stroking her neck, playfully pulling her matted hair, touching her ears, sniffing her head. She seemed to respond favourably, this was good, but he could tell she was nervous and could see that she was looking around to see if Ug had hidden a club anywhere, She could certainly feel something hard in her back. She turned around and began to touch his face, sniffing his armpits, he smelled good and he knew he did.
“Uff” she screamed, and that was the last thing Ug remembered ‘til the next morning.
He awoke to one hell of what could only be described as today as a hangover. Feeling the back of his head, he felt a lump. Then he felt his backside, nope, all was ok , it hadn’t been an attack by Oooer, the weird one. Looking to the side he saw Ek. Reaching out he felt a bump on the back of her head. She turned, she didn’t look too good. Her clothes had been ripped off and she looked like she had been ravaged for half the night.
“Uff” she whispered.
It had been Uff. Uff had taken Ugs woman and ravaged her before he could. Nobody knew where Uff had come from, he had turned up at the village a few winters ago, alone, no father, no friends, he’d turned up alone. Ug rubbed the back of his head again. It was sore. He needed a word for this, he needed a new word for Uff and what he was, what he had done. Looking at Ek he could see a tear roll down her face. Poor Ek.
“B’stard” he roared, and promptly passed out.
Excerpt from Cheesegrater. Adventure in Internet Dating
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