So Friday night, I was in my PJs. But around 10:30, I decided I was rammy*. I put on clothes and went to meet Seb. While we were listening to some amazing DJ, Seb went up to someone at the bar and said hello. I couldn't see the person he was talking to. He returned and asked if I knew the other person. "um, yeah. last time we saw each other/first time we met, we made out and then I ran away". I subsequently called Orange, told him I hated subtacular kissers and that I missed him. We got back together as a result. But, I digress. So, after I told Seb the story, I felt that I should go say hello to the other boy (Boy A). Except, I didn't know which one he was. I didn't remember. I narrowed it down to two, picked one, and danced on over. I asked his name, ready to explain. But, it wasn't him. It was someone else. Who now thought I was interested. I ended up bringing him home, because, ya know. The next morning, as we were reviewing the evening's events, he asked me if I had ever met Boy A, because "he's really cool". I didn't have the heart or courage to explain.
This is not the first time that mistaken identity has gotten me busy.
*rammy = rambunctious tied in with trouble making and shenanigan seeking, just in case you didn't know.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment