Close Call
The gathering place for our apartment is the kitchen table. People come over to visit, and we just sit around the table for hours and hours talking and laughing.Monday night was a cacophony of sound as we all sat around the kitchen table recounting the tales of our glorious three day weekends. (Mine unfortunately, was spent doing homework.)
People stopped in and out, pausing for a few minutes to laugh and talk with us. One of my roomies even got asked out on a date while sitting at the kitchen table that night (but that's a post for a different time).
Later, as the noise settled, Guitar Hero stopped by. As per my usual behavior, I creeper loved him from across the table. Of course, the topic of dating came up.... I think it had something to do with the stake dance. Most of my roomies aren't going, and so I think I was contemplating out loud just third wheeling it with the one roomie who is going. And then someone said, "Why don't you just ask someone to go with you?" To which I replied quite dramatically, "I'm tired of chasing men, I want a man to chase me for a change." And then I think I threw my head down on the table and moaned about how men run from me... or something to that effect. It was late, and I'd eaten a lot of cookies, and done a lot of homework. I'm not quite sure my faculties were completely intact.
Here's where the panic comes in.
Guitar hero says, "That's not true. I read your blog. Guys like you."
OMGOSH! SAY WHAT!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!
A deathly silence befell the normally exuberant table. I looked at him questioningly. My room mates looked at me. I looked back at them. There was nothing but awkward meaningful glances for at least 2o seconds.
I finally decided to stop ignoring the giant elephant in the room and asked, "What have you read exactly?"
"Your blog, that you post on your facebook page...."
IMMEDIATE RELIEF! He reads my personal blog, (which, although highly entertaining and insightful, does not declare my undying creeper love for him; so we're safe)
"But what was that?" he asks, referring to the awkward aforementioned meaningful glances. "Is this about your dating blog???" oh crap. oh crap. oh crap. why did i tell him i was a writer? and why did i tell him i write on an anonymous dating blog when he asked what type of writing i do?
I don't even remember how I responded, but I probably said something along the lines of: "Noooo, there's nothing on that blog... It's just silly girl stuff."
I have a horrible lying voice apparently, as he then promptly sprinted back to his apartment to search for this blog on the internet....
Luckily, he didn't find it. And hopefully, he never will.
But man, that was a close call.
ciao
-the Romantic
5 comments:
O.O I just freaked out for a few seconds when I got to the bold print. "Say whaaaaaaa?" Way to escape that.
wow, epic stressful moment right there! this was a very entertaining post.
i died like 12 times...and then i crapped my pants.
I've never been sooo nervous for someone before. Fantastic post! Thank heavens he doesn't know :)
I second Rachel's comment!
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