You walk out the door like you always do, wearing a touch of makeup — maybe from last night — leggings, and a spirit jersey. You pass the same people who are on their same paths to and from class every week at this time. You stop by Starbucks, and order the same drink. Nothing seems particularly particular about this day.
Until everything changes. There he is, in the distance: the guy you’re hooking up with.
He’s so far away from you at the moment, that he’s barely recognizable, but you’d know him anywhere — partially because you’re always kind of looking over your shoulder to see if he’s there — but no matter. That is him. That is his favorite red baseball cap that he always wears. That is his blue jacket. That is him. Your lovahhh. The guy who has most recently seen you naked. And you. fucking. lose it.
You have literally never in your life spoken to this guy sober before, which now that you think about it, kind of makes you feel like a slut. But honestly, who cares? That’s what dating is these days. Call me old-fashioned, but I want to sleep with a guy at least three times before going on a date with him. God, you’re so funny. And now he’ll finally get a chance to realize it because he’s going to have a conversation with you that he actually remembers.
Shit. He’s going to have a conversation with you that he actually remembers.
What do you even look like right now? Why, when faced with a path divided this morning did you take the road that meant dry shampoo instead of washing your hair? You don’t want him to see your FACE naked. It’s too soon for that.
You immediately pull up the group text.
You: 911. I think I see Mike in the distance. What do I do.
Ilana: Run? Hide? Kill yourself? Unclear
Jess: What are you wearing?
You: The same t-shirt I’ve been wearing for the last 36 hours. This is not great.
Lauren: Well where are you on campus? Can you take a different path?
You: I’m on Main Street. There are no alternate routes until I’ve already passed where he is.
Jess: Maybe he’ll turn?
You: Yes! Maybe he’ll turn.
*Waits 30 seconds*
You: HE DIDN’T FUCKING TURN. I AM GOING TO HAVE TO WALK RIGHT PASSED HIM. WHAT DO I DO?
Ilana: Tell me what heaven’s like, because your only option is to pray that lightning strikes you down dead.
Jess: Heaven? Yeah, like she’s going there.
You: YOU GUYS. This is no time to discuss what happens to me in the event of my untimely demise. He is rapidly approaching, and I need to deal with this.
Lauren: How far is he? Maybe just wave?
You: Still too far away for a wave.
Lauren: Just never stop looking down at your phone and see if he says hi to you
You: But what if he doesn’t? Can I still let him penetrate me if he doesn’t even say hi to me sober?
Jess: Definitely. You’re not saying hi to him either, so like, #equality
Ilana: Do you guys think it’s bad that we have no problem sleeping with guys but have mental breakdowns at the thought of talking to them?
You: Ew, Ilana
Jess: Ilana, fuck off.
Lauren: No. Just, no.
You look up from your phone at the exact right — or exact wrong — time. He’s the perfect distance away. You make eye contact. Shit, make your move.
“Hey, what’s up? Going out tonight?”
“Yeah, I think so. Dark Horse.”
“Yeah, me too. I’ll text you later.”
“Awesome. See you tonight.”