View Full Version : My incredibly obnoxious character experiment

January 5th, 2011, 11:00 PM
Hey all. Last night, just for fun, I thought I'd make an attempt at creating a really, really obnoxious character. I mean, someone you really wouldn't like. If you've watched "East Bound and Down" on HBO you'll know what I'm talking about.

I was wondering if you find the following readable? Do you want to stop reading at any particular point? Any other advice is welcome, too. Thanks in advance!
.................................................. .................................................. .................................................. ..............

They say every dog has its day. But I have my day just about every day. I guess if being a dog means having your day is the exception, I'm no dog. I'm an animal whose exception is not having his day. And that's a rare exception. If I were an animal I figure I'd be a tiger, and not because of any clichéd references to performance in bed. It's not that my performance in bed is lacking in any area. I just don't see tigers having qualities that would make them all that great in bed. I figure I'd be a bull elk in that respect.

I'm a tiger. And I have my day just about every day because I make every day my day. That's something tigers do. If I don't have my day it's not because someone else, or any set of circumstances took my day away. Every now and then I just have an off day. But even my off days are pretty tolerable.

I walk through my domain. I don't swagger; that's just posturing. I don't worry about the way I walk, because I don't need to. And women really dig that. They can discern those who are putting on a show from those who really are a show – a sight to behold.

Yes, confidence is key, but you can't feign confidence. You can't be truly confident if you don't have the goods to back it up. If you don't have the goods, your confidence is just an act, and women can identify even the most convincing of acts.

I walk along, and occasionally other members of my species appear in my field of view. Enough so that I don't have to turn my head either direction to size them up. I see those who might aspire to be my competition, and those who are long past that point in their lives; not that they would have been any real threat, even in their prime. I see a few prospects. That one's kind of cute. That one might do in a pinch. No thanks. Ah... I don't think so. Now hang on, what do we have here?

She may be my female equivalent. The real test is whether she shows it: her interest in me. A true alpha will demand that I be the pursuer. It's a goofy game of going through the motions, where I'm required to ultimately acknowledge her female prowess. Women are so insecure!

“Hey,” I casually say. My body language says, “I wouldn't normally waste the time talking to anyone, but I'm feeling benevolent, so I'll make an exception.”

“Hi,” she says back, in no way revealing her interest. Oh, it's there! She might not be showing it, but I can smell it!

I go to yawn. “Roaaarrr!” Oops, I hate it when that happens! I'm so full of manliness that sometimes it just slips right out. She makes a note of it, and turns her head so she can check me out in her peripheral vision. I see her, and she knows that I see her. She doesn't mind; it's all part of the game.

There's no doubt I pass the test in her eyes. And she has enough experience with my gender to know I'm laying down the moves. She still needs that concession from me, but I have to give it to her in such a way that I maintain every bit of my confidence.

“I have the goods,” I tell myself. “She's mine. I have her. All I have to do is take her.” It's only when I know this to be true that I can make a move like the following work. If I doubt myself in any way, I blow it. But I have no reason to doubt myself.

I'm ready to go for it, and I have no doubt I'll be successful. But I start getting this feeling that this one won't have a happy ending. Though I would normally attribute that to an inadequacy on her part, in this case, I believe it's just an incompatibility. At any rate, something seems off, so I give her a look that says, “Later Babe!” and get the hell out of there.

I continue, and find myself in an interesting situation. I walk down the front of the store in search of the checkout counter that will get me on my way the fastest. The first is one with a cute little thing who's had a thing for me for a long time. It's not her fault she's made it so obvious – she can't help it. But she's busy with an old fart, so I walk on.

The next is one who's cute, though definitely my second choice, given the choice. She really has a thing for me, to such a degree I almost feel sorry for her. Oh, the frustration she must feel! The disappointment she'll experience some day when at last she realizes she'll never have me. She's not busy, so I swing in.

I have a six-pack of beer. The kind of beer tigers would drink, if tigers drank beer. She sees her opportunity to learn a little more about me, so she asks for my identification, though she knows I'm of legal age. She nervously reads it. At last, she has a name to put to her fantasy! The next time she's with some meaningless man, or I should probably say boy, she can even use my name while imagining it's me instead of him.

Meanwhile, the young woman behind me is fabricating all kinds of reasons to turn around and look my direction. “Oh, how I wish this stinky old man wasn't standing here!” she thinks to herself. If not for that stinky old man, she could be the one asking for my driver's license, or simply making her affection for me even more obvious, in the vain hopes that enough affection on her part might inspire some on mine. I should say, enough affection for me to act, because as I've already admitted, I do have some affection for her.

Even worse for her, her competition – the young checker about her age – has me all to herself, at least for a minute or two. Little does she know that of the two, she's my first choice. True, her competition may be more endowed when it comes to certain physical attributes, but I'm not as shallow as most men. My attraction to her goes beyond the physical. She has something that not a lot of women have. I won't go into details as to what that is.

At last the young woman bagging my groceries has exhausted every last excuse to talk to me, to maybe learn something more about me, maybe see a little twinkle in my eyes, so I go on about my way. I think about the young woman behind me. “Damn that stinky old man! Shouldn't he be in a home somewhere?”

I pretend to have a good reason for looking behind me. “I wonder if I'm forgetting anything. Maybe I'll just look behind me and make sure I haven't forgotten anything.” I glance over my shoulder, hoping she'll be looking my direction, and if she is, I'll make eye contact with her, to at least let her know that her competition didn't get to me. But she isn't looking, so I quickly head on my way. I walk out the door, with no regard for the way I'm walking.

I walk through the parking lot, and as I walk in front of a car that's stopped for a man and his two kids, and walk much faster than the man and his kids, I wonder what it would be like to be the driver of that car? A mid-thirties mom in a nice car, slowing down for a man and his slow-walking kids, when all of a sudden here comes a built young stud who totally blows their doors off. I mean, I walked past them like they were walking backwards!

I get back to my car, and realize that I forgot something. I guess I'll have to go back in and get it. “Damn it,” I say to myself.

I walk back in the store. As soon as I get into the main area, I glance in the direction of the two young checkers. I walk alongside the row of checkout counters, keeping my peripheral vision on the people behind the counters. I keep waiting for her to turn around, but she doesn't. But then again, why would she? Luckily she's close to the end, and that means I can make a turn at the end, and at least she'll get to see me walking by.

As I near the place I'll be making my turn, I give a tug on my jeans to make sure they're not sagging. My butt looks really good in these jeans, but they have a tendency to slide down a bit. I make the turn, and point my peripheral vision towards her, and then I confirm: she saw me. She reacted! She looked up and watched me as I quickly walked on past, like a tiger going in for a kill!

I walk to get the item I forgot, quickly turn around and head back to the checkout area. There's no one at hers. There's an old lady headed in that direction. “I have to beat her!” I tell myself. I know her type: she only has a few items, but I'm sure she has a bunch of coupons, then she'll have to write a check and balance her checkbook before she leaves. That will make me have to go to the next checkout counter, otherwise it will look really odd for me to stand behind this really slow old lady.

I move even more quickly than normal, but realize it's a draw. It would look really tacky for me to dart in front of her. So I slow down, and motion that I'd like for her to go in front of me, even though I only have one item and it won't take me ten minutes to pay. In these cases, most people will insist that I go first. But the old lady doesn't even seem to notice me. She just waddles right up to the counter and begins unloading groceries, ever-so-slowly.

I'll refrain from sharing my feelings for this little old lady. I will say, I wouldn't have this problem in the jungle.

I wander around looking for another open checkout, and notice that most are fairly busy. So I continue walking around, giving the appearance that I just don't know which one to go to, and after two trips back and forth, hop in line behind the old lady.

The young checker sees I'm in her checkout, looks up at me, and quickly glances back down. A kind of excitement comes over her. The old lady gets through quicker than I expected, and finally, here I am, face to face with this young woman.

“Did you find everything you were looking for?” She asks me, looking right into my eyes. For some reason I find it almost impossible to make eye contact with her. I want to, but I just can't.

“Yep,” I say cordially, looking at her cheeks – almost making eye contact. She goes on talking to me like I'm her BFF... like we just talked yesterday. I find this a little unnerving and let many opportunities to talk to her pass by. She just keeps jabbering on, and I just stand there acknowledging the myriad of trivial information she's providing to me with nods of my head.

I figure it's been less than a minute. I only had the one item, and now I've paid for it and have no reason to keep standing there. She looks at me like she's expecting me to say or do something, but to be honest, I'm not sure I want to. She talks too much. She does have an eloquent way of addressing the menial; I'll give her that. She has an incredibly sweet voice, too. But for some reason the spirit just isn't moving me, so I walk out the door, not concerned in the least bit about the way I walk. I haven't forgotten anything, so I head home.

January 6th, 2011, 04:02 AM
OK so it started out good, I really smiled while I was reading it, but then started to drag a bit, and then the ending- really? Makes me think this is the way you actually go through your day! That's fine, I do too, but you've got to use your imagination for the ending, cause reality is a letdown.\ Make the whole thing shorter, too. Maybe have the other girl show up, imagine a big catfight between the three of them over you, imagine you've resolved all of their jealousy, and then go home.

Also you could make it more, obnoxious, if you want to put it that way (I'm not sure how to put it, ridiculously cocky maybe) throughout.

January 6th, 2011, 08:51 PM
Hi greggb,
I have to agree with darkonone, your guy isn't really THAT obnoxious. In the end I'm actually thinking that he's kind of sweet, that despite all of his previous boasting, he's actually kind of shy. I mean, he passes up the hot street girl for the cute cashier at the grocery? And then he doesn't even talk to her? A really obnoxious guy would let a girl talk all she wanted if he thought he was going to get laid at the end of the conversation, or he'd be so obnoxious that getting laid isn't a priority but talking smack is, in which case, he would have chimed in and actually told the cashier she talked too much. However, your writing is good - I'd read more of this guy's escapades if he didn't turn out to be a wuss - he needs a hobby, like race car driving or arm chair quarterbacking - that would make him truly obnoxious.
And you've inspired me. Now I'd like to try and create my own really obnoxious, hateful character...I think he hangs at the local bar and uses a farmer's tissue, even in public...

January 7th, 2011, 01:36 AM
I am not sure if I am way off here, but from what you said, you were trying to make a obnoxious character? But, your character isn't really that obnoxious.

They say every dog has its day. But I have my day just about every day. I guess if being a dog means having your day is the exception, I'm no dog. I'm an animal whose exception is not having his day.

I think you confused your writing, to that of your characters personality? I am not sure if I am way off here.

January 7th, 2011, 06:22 PM
Hi greggb,
Afraid I've got to agree with the gang. Here's a trick for creating an obnoxious character: Think of the most outrageous thing anyone has ever said to you. That's your starting point and then you build on it. A word of warning: It's very easy to go overboard when you're creating an over-the-top character. Try to stay just this side of the line. And practice, practice, practice! Good luck!

January 8th, 2011, 08:24 AM
Thanks for all the great replies! Yeah, my character turns out not to be such a bad guy after all. I guess my title was probably a little misleading. I did start with the intentions of making him a total a**hole but found him not wanting to be such a jerk after all. This was basically just an excercise for me... I guess my main question was, does this work? By that I mean, is it readable, does it keep your attention, and is the character consistent? In the end I'd ultimately want to write something that people would enjoy reading, and if my characters stray from my hopes for them I don't mind, as long as the end product is something people want to read.

If I were to continue with this, I think what you'd find is that the main character does really have a thing for the cashier, and that's really one of the main plot points. That was the reason he passed on the first girl he hit on, which is something I'd hope the reader would suspect. Another point is that he's incredibly narcissistic, so throughout the story you'd hear him obsessing about the world through his eyes, making every single situation about him, hopefully in a humorous way, and again coupled with some pretty strong feelings he has for the cashier... a sweet, younger woman who finds him attractive but finds his mannerisms to be pretty intolerable. Do you think that would make for a decent story?

Thanks again for all the replies!