Everyone has qualities about themselves that they ignore and don't want to deal with. You may not be good with money. You may be selfish. I, sadly, am secretly thirsty. And unfortunately, this thirst is accompanied by a vibrant imagination that I use to daydream about elaborate...situations with men I went to college with. It's a disease really. Looking back, I was thirsty in college but there was no term for it then. I had a laundry list of guys that I was thirsty for, but one of my favorites was Blank Man.
Admittedly, the first thing that attracted me to Blank Man was that he was obviously slept on. He was in college and he is now. And I am most definitely slept on. See the connection? I sometimes casually ask different girlfriends about what they think about him and they all respond with a heavy spirit of indifference. Of blah. Of whatever. More than one of them has said that they don't think he is cute which is an out-and-out lie! He is literally tall and handsome! I don't get it!
Once he became Greek, I knew that he was going to become a nightmare and that groupies were going to swarm him like flies on poop. This always happens to boys after they cross, but it didn't happen to him. He became Greek and it was almost like girls forgot it happened as soon as it did. I would go fan girl inside whenever I saw him in his line jacket on the yard. He was adorable! Again, other girls seemed unenthused, stepping over him to get to the hottest, sexiest womanizer with a fresh fade.
Well, flashback to the Xavier Homecoming Tailgate. I sat on the couch in my class's tent, seat twerking with Big Homie Sans to some bounce music when I saw Blank Man walk in, hugging everybody and dapping everybody up. I sat up straight. My internal thirstmeter slowly dialed up to the rhythm of a Big Freeda baseline. There he was: tall, dark, and handsome. And fatter. And visibly older. And mildly awkward. YUMMY!
"Hey Blank Man!" I said in an overly feminine voice that made Big Homey Sans raise her professionally arched eyebrow.
"Hey, what's up Holly?" he asked.
"Nothing much. How have you been?" I asked, trying to keep the thirst under control.
"Good, good."
Are you married?" I asked. Yikes. Talk about not playing it cool.
Cool your jets sex pot, Big Homey Sans said to me with her eyes.
"No, I'm not," he said. He didn't pick up on the thirst because men are stupid.
"Oh okay," I said. He moved his head back with wide eyes with a quickness that scared me. Sigh. He picked it up that time which is odd, because that time, I hadn't meant to be thirsty. I had used too much kaaaay in my okay. He was standing and I was sitting, and he looked down at me with this look of confusion and shock and disbelief. Are you...flirting with me? his eyes asked. He looked like he didn't know whether to laugh or scream.
No way! What is flirting? Is that a real thing? Use it in a sentence, I said with my eyes.
Big Homie Sans shook her head, sipping on her cocktail and crossing her legs.
The innocence in my lying eyes brought him back down to earth and he smiled.
"It was good to see you Blank Man," I said with a wide, Girl Scout-esque smile.
"It was good seeing you too!" Quick platonic hug. Friendly smile.
I turned and looked to Big Homie Sans. She chuckled, nibbling on ice chips.
It doesn't pay to be thirsty no, I said to myself, happy to have Toosie slid out of another potentially embarrassing situation. Next time I go to the tailgate, I will bring water.
No comments:
Post a Comment