Thoughts When Tom Doesn’t Watch The Snapchat Story You Posted Specifically So He’d See It

Thoughts When Tom Doesn't Watch The Snapchat Story You Posted Specifically So He'd See It

  • Ok. This is it. This is the Snapchat that is going to make Tom fall in love with me. Or at least text me back.
  • Fuck I can’t send Tom another Snapchat before he sends me one back. But he needs to see this. The suggestive straw sip is everything. Really, he’s the only reason that I spent 15 minutes in a bar capturing the perfect video, which basically ruined my chances with any other guy here since they all think I’m a self-absorbed bitch now. I mean, I am, but I don’t want them to think it.
  • Story time! He’ll see it. He can’t go ten minutes without checking his phone, and since all other girls are dead to him since I graced his life with my presence, that means he’s checking social media often.
  • Hopefully he responds to my story. I mean, he will — have you seen me? I’m so cute. And the story response is a level up from the direct snap response.
  • At our wedding, I bet he’ll say this is the exact moment he realized he was deeply in love with me.
  • Okay. Ten minutes. That’s fine. This is fine. Actually, I’m glad he hasn’t checked my story yet. I don’t want a guy who’s on his phone all day. When we’re in a relationship, the last thing that I want is for him to constantly be trolling Snapchat. That’s where hoes live. That’s where the thirst traps are. Except for me. And this. I mean, kind of. Whatever.
  • Oh my God. I’m so dumb. He’s playing hard to get. I can envision him staring at my story, itching to watch, but waiting an appropriate amount of time so he doesn’t seem eager. That’s what I would do. He’s being kind of cute trying to impress me, actually.
  • Okay. This is dumb. Boys are dumb. It’s not eager any more. You’ve waited 30 minutes.
  • I’m just going to put my phone down for a bit. A watched pot never boils and a watched Tom never opens your Snapchat story. The next time I organically open my phone, he will have messaged me. Maybe even twice. I will absolutely not just be mentally counting down the minutes until I feel like I’ve given him enough time. I’m just having fun! In my life!
  • Did I remember to shave? I wonder if my Uber rating would go down if I request someone buy me a razor and bring it to the bar?
  • It’s been an hour. A goddamn hour. Where is he, and why doesn’t he have he his Snap Map on? THAT SHOULD BE A LAW.
  • I need a drink.
  • Fuck this. I’m going to take a Snapchat of this one as well. Look at me, Tom, I’m having just as much fun as you are, at whatever you’re doing that’s preventing you from giving me attention.
  • Que le fuck?!? He just posted a Snapchat story.
  • Well, if this is the game you want to play, then I’M NOT LOOKING AT YOURS EITHER! I don’t care what you’re doing, or who you’re doing it with. Except that’s literally all I care about. But I will not give you the satisfaction.
  • Dammit, I wish it wasn’t weird to bring your glasses to the bar. There’s no way that I’ll be able to see what his story is of from that little thumbnail.
  • If that is a chick in his thumbnail, I am so. fucking. done.
  • I can’t believe I posted a video of my tits to my story for attention. I have my 14-year-old cousin on Snapchat. I have my MOM on Snapchat.
  • I was blinded by love. Or vodka.
  • Speaking of vodka, I need another drink. And another snap.
  • No, Amber, I do not need to “cool it” with the Snapchatting. No, Amber, I don’t think that its time for me to “call it a night.”
  • Ok, Amber might have a point. The sooner I go home, the sooner I can make a snack…that I can SNAPCHAT. To prove to Tom I’m more than just boobs. Even though I have great boobs. I showed you, Amber.
  • Wow. Not even the sandwich got you. I’m going to bed. Surely he’ll view by morning.
  • Cool, so after 23 hours of pure torture, we’re down to the home stretch. Tom has exactly an hour to view my story before it disappears forever. More importantly, he has an hour to view my story, so I can view his and not feel creepy.
  • Honestly, who cares that this whole ordeal, and story was posted for his benefit. That ungrateful fuck wouldn’t know a perfectly story even if he saw it (which he would, if he just opened mine). I’m sure that there are plenty of other great guys out there who would have definitely viewed my story the second that I posted it, messaged me right away, and would have even brought me breakfast in bed the next day after our inevitable night of great sex that all started from that great snap.
  • I know that I’m worth a guy who has the common decency to know how important it is to open a snap story, especially one that was literally only posted so that he would look at it.
  • Time’s up, and he didn’t see it. I don’t care, really. I think that this weird, sinking feeling of defeat is tied to inevitable calories that I’m going to consume from the pity pizza I just ordered.
  • I might as well just post a picture of this delicious looking pizza to my story, with the caption “would be better for my bikini body if I had someone to share this with.”
  • Your move, Tom.
  • Image via Shutterstock

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    Hiding from my mother and standards, both of whom would disown me if they heard most of these stories. Aspiring law school student, with a chihuahua named Bruiser and a head of unnatural blonde hair. Email me your "crazy" stories or any mixed drink recipes that taste like juice, but have copious amounts of vodka in them at [email protected] Watch the bitch behind these stories at:

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