Admittedly, my blog has been less than exciting lately.
I can’t guarantee this entry will bring any excitement back, but it will at least be embarrassing for me. Which means happiness for you.
You know all those awesome scenes in movies where the dorky, less-than-smooth guy, has the “oh-my-God-I-wish-that-happened-to-me-in-high-school-or-college” sexy-time moment with the super hot chick? Yea, those things don’t ever happen in real-life. Well, not to me anyway.
I don’t go out seeing how many numbers I can score. Girls don’t hit on me at bars. And I certainly don’t get the hot foreign exchange student stripping in my bedroom thing happening either.
So, anytime anything remotely awesome happens with a girl, it’s a big deal to me.
Which leads us to today…
I was working with a customer when one of our greeters comes up to me and hands me a business card. The greeter says, “Some girl who just left wanted me to give this to you.” Clearly confused, I grabbed the business card. The card had some girl’s name and phone number on it. And at the top was a a little message – “Your Hot”
Bad grammar aside, this was pretty awesome. At first, I thought it was a trick my coworkers were playing on me, but after I talked to the greeter she convinced me it was true. Apparently, this girl was being helped by one of my coworkers, grabbed his business card, wrote the note and handed it to the greeter because I was working with someone else at the time.
I never saw this girl, so I had no clue if she was hot, ugly, 14, or 87.
I, of course, assumed it was Megan Fox’s less famous, but much hotter sister. I also envisioned she was waiting for me outside in some sexy lingerie with a Zaxby’s chicken finger plate and a Landshark for me. What? It could happen.
Back in the real world, I had no intention of calling the girl because any girl that thinks I’m hot is clearly blind..or drunk..or desperate…or all of the above. Despite this, it still made me feel good and I knew it would make for a good story.
Of course, the story got better.
When I got home, I told Booze about it and we decided we had to look her up on Facebook. Although I knew this was probably going to ruin my Megan Fox-with-food-and-beer fantasy, I searched for the mystery woman.
Soon after, I found her profile. It was mostly blocked to non-friends, but her picture was visible. I couldn’t quite make out her face, but I determined she probably wasn’t a hotter version of Megan Fox. Before I could come to any actual conclusions about her level of attractiveness, I noticed something in her hand that was taking over much of her picture. It kinda looked like a mirror – it was shiny and had a reflection in it. I leaned in closer to my computer screen. Squinting, I tried to figure out why the Hell she was holding a mirror..
Much to my horror, I realized it was, in fact, NOT a mirror but a…wait for it…
Yes, a fucking huge-ass cleaver! As in, “Hey, I’m the type of thing Dexter Morgan would use to chop up his victims into little pieces before tossing their diced body parts into the ocean” kind of cleaver.
Only me…only me.