embarrassment is timeless
I didn't realize I could blush this much.
I just got a facebook friend request from a dude who thinks I groped him at a basketball game when we were 17 - but really it was my evil genius of a so-called BFF who pinched his butt and then stepped away from me gazing innocently into the distance. Only I saw the smirk! I may or may not have had a small crush on the boy. If only in the vague way wherein it took me literally years to even stop to wonder why he didn't seem to mind.
Oh, Crap! Now there's a FB message too. How can I be this embarrassed? I am an adult, dammit!
We'd just met up again that week, years after he'd left our school. He somehow managed for a few days to fall in the infinitesimally small group of boys humans who I knew well enough that I'd comfortably talk to, and who didn't know me well enough to see me as the clichéd "girl with glasses who will help you with homework and/or argue with you about the musical merits of grunge and/or help you reach things from the top shelf", you know the kind "the one with the dateable friends". Naturally, after The Incident I never showed my face again. A couple of weeks later I left for college.
That may sound bitter, but it's not. It's kind of fond. It's the way I am. I run away if I think someone's interested in me so that was a novel feeling of potential potential, thwarted in the most ridiculous of ways (and therefore not my fault). I hate it when my BFF is right.
Still, would it be weird to write back "I swear it wasn't me"? Probably.
I just got a facebook friend request from a dude who thinks I groped him at a basketball game when we were 17 - but really it was my evil genius of a so-called BFF who pinched his butt and then stepped away from me gazing innocently into the distance. Only I saw the smirk! I may or may not have had a small crush on the boy. If only in the vague way wherein it took me literally years to even stop to wonder why he didn't seem to mind.
Oh, Crap! Now there's a FB message too. How can I be this embarrassed? I am an adult, dammit!
We'd just met up again that week, years after he'd left our school. He somehow managed for a few days to fall in the infinitesimally small group of boys humans who I knew well enough that I'd comfortably talk to, and who didn't know me well enough to see me as the clichéd "girl with glasses who will help you with homework and/or argue with you about the musical merits of grunge and/or help you reach things from the top shelf", you know the kind "the one with the dateable friends". Naturally, after The Incident I never showed my face again. A couple of weeks later I left for college.
That may sound bitter, but it's not. It's kind of fond. It's the way I am. I run away if I think someone's interested in me so that was a novel feeling of potential potential, thwarted in the most ridiculous of ways (and therefore not my fault). I hate it when my BFF is right.
Still, would it be weird to write back "I swear it wasn't me"? Probably.