C: My college mate is trying to hook me up with his "best homie". He ambushed me once with his friend in tow. Embarrassing much.
How many times have you asked your friend for a hook up, to put in a good word for you in strategic places, for a phone number so you can call and hang up again straight after his (or her) 'hello?' with your heart in your mouth? It takes a rare person to find the guts to ask someone out face to face without first engaging in a covert op.
Therefore most of us are left scrabbling for bits of information from sympathetic and obliging friends, who let us pump them for every single time the object of your affections so much as breathed and what they breathed about, especially since you go out of your way to avoid him.
What did you tell him? What did he say? What does he think of me? Does he like me? Does he like like me?
And once the interrogation finishes, they then have to put up with a barrage of
Does he like me? What do you think? What should i do? Omg, I don't know if he even likes me!
And as the desperation mounts, you start arranging completely accidental meetings based on the "Where he goes for lunch" section of your inch thick dossier that is the quintessence of completeness, you'd put the CIA to shame.
Oh, wow, you go here too? I had no idea! Of course I go here (yea, since like last week).
As you start to get used to forming audible sentences in the presence of your heart's desire, you call him using the number you've committed to memory, engraved onto the back of your notepad, and into your heart, right next to your name and his surname, in a bubble of happy flowers and floating clouds.
He doesn't stand a chance.
1 comment:
what an interesting blog i just read it properly. hahah i know you're outside but it's more fun getting comments :)
and i think it was the other way round. by the way. as in he stalked i didn't know what was going on.
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