This article is classified "Real"
Every Saturday morning many hikers congregate in the hills and houses that surround the Ram's Head pub in Disley in order to witness the spectacle of the Patient Boyfriend Ritual. Approximately seven hundred and twenty-five teenage boyfriends turn up - this number varies according to how many of them are out with their mates instead and how many of them actually have girlfriends that are worth waiting for in the first place. They all sit around on benches, seats, on top of walls, against posts, against small walls, on the floor, or hover in the air if they feel like it. Simultaneously, and for a period of usually well over an hour, they look around intently for their due-to-arrive partners, taking regular breaks in order to look at their watches, and try to find a reflective shop window to make sure they look well-presented without making it clear that they're being vain. The only thing they ever see when doing this, aside from the seconds rapidly ticking away (the Earth's time system, relative to universe norms, slows down inexplicably for this period of time), is the other boys sitting around. They all realise that they are in the same boat, but of course they're too cool, calm and composed to ever talk to each other. They don't even acknowledge each other's presence. The odd thing is that of the seven hundred and twenty-five or so waiting males, only about four or five girlfriends ever actually turn up. The rest of them take varying lengths of time to slope off home looking depressed and miserable. Despite this, the same hordes of boyfriends turn up the following week anyway. I was one of the seven hundred and twenty-five once, and I enjoyed being part of the spectacle so much that I turned up for several more weeks after it had sunk in that my girlfriend had dumped me anyway.