April 19, 2012
"Anyone ever tell you you're beautiful?" he asked.
Yeah, nobody has ever said that to me. Not at my bat mitzvah. Not at my prom. Not at my sister's wedding. Not at my other sister's wedding either. I'm Taylor Swift sitting pigeon-toed on the bleachers, pushing my glasses up my nose with my pointer finger as I stare at the basketball captain shooting a lay-up. If were in Beverly Hills, 90210, I'd be Andrea Zuckerman, who's basically a frog with stiff bangs and eyeglasses. Fuck you, dude. What a dumb thing to say!
The area to order our food was small and well-lit. I couldn't pretend I didn't hear him. He stared at me, waiting for an answer. Then the tiniest light bulb of all time lit up over my head; I remembered that I had the capacity to lie.
"Yeah, my boyfriend tells me all the time." I almost tripped over the word "boyfriend." I don't remember the last time I said "boyfriend" out loud. Wait, I remember: it was when I said, "That dinosaur would make a great boyfriend," BECAUSE THAT'S HOW LONG IT'S BEEN SINCE I'VE HAD ONE. Sorry for yelling. I'm trying to be emphatic here.
"Does he tell you you're his queen?" This guy was a riot! It's so funny because I just wanted to jam on a spring roll and motor home to watch the latest episode of "The Voice" on demand, but now I'm somehow roped into talking about my non-existent boyfriend with a rude stranger.
"He sure does," I said. He also parasails, hang glides, and picks "She Talk to Angles" as his go-to karaoke song choice. It sucks that I have to make up a boyfriend to avoid talking to people but whatever. "Everybody hurts." -R.E.M.
I don't know. How's your love life going? It has to be better than making up romantic prospects at hole-in-the-wall Chinese joints in South Philly. Tell me in the comments!