There was one of these parties last night. I was invited and I went. And going to this party lead me to having the worst, most painful feeling I've ever had. Slight exaggeration but close enough…
There was a guy. Of course it involves a guy. I picked him out right away as being the most gorgeous guy I'd seen in a long time. Although he wasn't blatantly flirtatious with me, throughout the course of the party he made it clear and apparent that he wanted everything to do with my butterfly.
Toward the end of the night, he asked if I'd drive him to his car. I was way too inebriated to drive, but I said yes. On the way there, he talked a lot. I don't remember much of it because it was drizzling so I was thinking more about getting to the car than anything else. I think he tried to give me a kiss. Either that or he accidentally dropped his mouth while it was still attached to his face. But I refused because I was busy staying alive. I did hold his hand though to defuse the situation.
We got to the place where his car was. He got his key, opened my door, and asked, "Wanna follow me home?" And it was so excellently sexy. If you can relate this experience in any way, you'll know that it is probably the best feeling in the world. This feeling is the sole reason why parties exist.
I got in my car and followed him. He changed lanes, I followed. A car cut in front of me. He turned, and then changed lanes again, I followed. The red lights refracting off the windshield blurred together. His tail lights were like the eyes of hope looking back at me. He turned again. I followed. I think. I saw a blinker somewhere. I turned in the general area of the blinker. The road was dark. He was gone. The eyes had shut. I was alone.
If you can relate to this experience, you'll probably know that it is the worst feeling in the world. This feeling is the sole reason why psychologist exists.
I was about to get out of the car, drop to my knees, and cry his name while screaming, "Why? Why?" And eat mud and rub it all over myself. But I didn't do any of that, because I forgot his name. And it'd be embarrassing if I was on my knees passionately balling, "Oh brown hair man from the party? Why!? Oh where are you, the tall dark brown hair man with possibly too much cologne? Whyyyy?"
I stopped the car and turned off the engine. It was miserable. That was the worst, saddest, and most helpless I've ever felt. So I took a deep breath and thoroughly assessed my situation. And by assessing my situation, I mean pulling my dress up and had a romantic moment with my butterfly.
In retrospect, I did a few things wrong. These mistakes in a story generally are called morals. Here are the morals of this story.
1. If you meet a guy at a party, always bang him as quickly and close-by as possible. Never follow him home. No matter how drunk either of you are, find someplace nearby.
2. If you're driving a guy somewhere and he tries to kiss you, take it. It might be your only chance. If you don't take it, you might end up like me - lost and alone.
3. Never wear too much cologne. That's what makes girls want to follow you home. Help us both out and don't do that. And don't wear ugly shoes to a formal party. Girls can tell the difference between a Boat shoes and Good Italian leather shoes. You're better off putting plastic bags around your feet.
5. A "black and white" party does not mean everyone speaks in absolutes. And this is not in opposition to a Shades of Black or Blue Club where everyone is undecided and dithering.
5a. Always keep Kleenex in your glove compartment in case you get p***y blocked by global warming.
That's all. Take it or leave it. I'm going to go into my room and assess my situation some more.
