This is how everyone's lunch dates go, I assume
Hey, so you know how sometimes, you go out to lunch with someone that you're into and it's like, the third or so time you've hung out, so now it's time to share all your "this could be a dealbreaker" secrets? (I assume everyone does this.)
And then at the end you decide that . . .
even though they're older than you thought (yes, I did not bother to get this information earlier)
and they got a stripper pregnant back when they were your age, more or less, (and that you're closer to his son's age than his age)
and they fucked up the program you planned (though at least copped to the fuck up later)
and they criticized your friend for not dressing up for a stupid classroom exercise
and they have vaguely tacky tattoos
. . . that you don't care, that you're still into them because they spent six years saving Ethiopian orphans (and you've creepily fetishized philanthropy), and you hope that they're still into you?
So then, as you're about to part, you see one arm go up and you think, thank God, he's going for a hug so I don't have to worry about how to end this interaction now or whether he thinks I'm a complete freak, so you turn to reciprocate the hug and just as you're wrapping your arms around him . . .
. . . you realize that he was actually reaching for a trash can to throw away his floss.
Don't you just hate it when that happens?
Right, guys?
And then at the end you decide that . . .
even though they're older than you thought (yes, I did not bother to get this information earlier)
and they got a stripper pregnant back when they were your age, more or less, (and that you're closer to his son's age than his age)
and they fucked up the program you planned (though at least copped to the fuck up later)
and they criticized your friend for not dressing up for a stupid classroom exercise
and they have vaguely tacky tattoos
. . . that you don't care, that you're still into them because they spent six years saving Ethiopian orphans (and you've creepily fetishized philanthropy), and you hope that they're still into you?
So then, as you're about to part, you see one arm go up and you think, thank God, he's going for a hug so I don't have to worry about how to end this interaction now or whether he thinks I'm a complete freak, so you turn to reciprocate the hug and just as you're wrapping your arms around him . . .
. . . you realize that he was actually reaching for a trash can to throw away his floss.
Don't you just hate it when that happens?
Right, guys?