It finally happened. A guy
fell for me. For real..! (Well, at least he fell right in front of me, and that
ought to count for something, right?)
There I was, minding my own
business, cuddled up on the couch with my beloved new partner Netflix. Little
did Netflix know he was about to face some serious competition.
Five minutes before midnight
two people came rolling into my living room. And yes, rolling pretty much
describes it, as summersaults and semi-unsuccessful headstand-attempts on the
floor quickly became their favorite activity.
That’s before they noticed my big, shiny stripper-pole in the middle of the room.
The unsuccessful rolling quickly
switched place from floor to pole. The girl had some drunken moves, I must say.
But when it came to the guy, things got, well…interesting..!
I smelled disaster the
moment he tried to twirl, but in fear of sounding like an old lady, I kept my
mouth shut. (Now people, sometimes that inner old lady is actually intuition).
It only took one quarter of
a twirl, before the guy came crashing down. The shock made me oblivious to the
noise and pieces of glass spreading all around. All I saw was the dude landing
right in front of me. Staring up at me like a lost duckling from inside the
hole who once served as a table. Thankfully, the guy had manners, and collected
the glass and vaccumed the floor before he ran out, never to be seen again. Leaving
me all alone with Netflix, who now seemed pale in comparison.
Maybe next time, a straight
guy will notice my otherworldly charm and fall when he gets blinded by the
sparkle in my eye.
Until then, I’ll cover the
hole with a poster of Johnny Depp, and pray Netflix will take me back.
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