excuse us while we sing to the sky |-/

draw the OTP and the third wheel best friend

torso: crushed

dick: out

now, let me tell you now that Doorman Dan is the absolute love of my life. I don’t care that he’s a decade older than me and has a fiance. you know when someone is so extraordinary or impossible to define that they’re simply referred to as ‘a character’? that’s Doorman Dan. now, before I get into his personality, let’s describe his appearance. imagine the most stereotypical Scandinavian person ever: tall, white-blond, strong-jawed. now, add a heavy South Walian accent and an orange jumper.

that’s Doorman Dan. 

since meeting him last year, I’ve discovered:

he once had a dream that he had a tattoo that said ‘shit happens’ on his left arsecheek, so when he woke up he decided he had to fulfil the prophecy and got it tattooed on his arse by a bloke called Junkie Jeff at 9AM

he forgot to call his girlfriend for three months while he was in the army, and was completely unaware they had broken up until he wished her a happy Christmas and she responded with ‘what the fuck Dan’

accidentally married his army buddy in Vegas for thirty-six hours

he saw someone beating up a guy for being gay, and instead of jumping in and fighting back he decided to get absolutely bollock-naked and stand in front of the homophobe until he got freaked out and ran off

he has a millionare buddy who rings him up once a month for ‘mystery adventures’, one of which has resulted in Doorman Dan no longer being allowed inside any John Lewis shops

he is convinced the love of his life is not his fiancee, but a man named Ned. upon being asked who Ned is, he shrugged and responded with: “I’ll know when I meet him.”

he runs an Instagram account dedicated to his pet rabbits and refuses to let people into the bar unless they follow him

his fiancee booked a wedding venue before he even proposed. “I don’t even know if I’m invited, truth be told.”

when he caught a couple having sex in our loos, he didn’t want to intrude so he just gently knocked on the door and asked if they’d like a snack

he has created his own non-alcoholic cocktail called Doorman’s Sunrise because he feels left out being the only person on the dance floor without a drink when he’s patrolling the bar

Next week, he was in. It took me 10 minutes to determine that I was dealing with a 10 year old kid who was incredibly intelligent, more than a little bored, and loved being the center of attention.

He was also black. I say this because I think that a intelligent, somewhat bored, attention-seeking white kid might have been treated differently.

So, day one I made him sit by himself where no one could see him to stop him from taking over the class (which he was clearly used to doing).

Day two: I paid close attention to when he finished (not surprising, he was first and did everything correctly). I immediately told him he was helping me, and paired him with a struggling student.

My hunch was right; he made a excellent teacher. He thrived on having this other kid’s attention. He wasn’t bored. He was one of my best students.