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The Stories...
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Love Stinks. Sometimes we get dumped.
: submit your own
no, you can't have any of my fries
by fry guy
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college was, amongst few other things, a time for me to explore the wondrous depths of asexuality. by my junior year, i had gotten so good at it that i was quite aloof to the advances being made upon me by a member of the fairer sex named tatiana. What did she look like? i don’t really remember—kinda cute, brown hair, bubbly personality (read: airhead), relatively annoying, etc. i barely noticed, though—too absorbed in the wonders of how seemingly all of my collegiate peers seemed to defy the most basic of darwinian principles. in any event, after hanging out repeatedly after class and such, she invited me to go see a relatively famous intellectual (one she knew i enjoyed) give a lecture at some big university. of course, i had no idea that this was a date; i just thought she took as much interest in the guy as i did. it did finally start to dawn upon me, however, when, in the midst of this guy’s lecture about blind vision and phantom pain and such, i felt a hand start making its way over to my more sensitive areas (extremely sensitive in those days--remember the asexuality comment made above), and, finding its mark, grabbed a hold.
ok. now, when i was in 7th grade, i would do crap like this at movie theaters. by 9th grade, i had already started getting crippled by the humiliating memories of ever having done such things. here i was with a fellow 21-year-old, and she still seemed stuck in the habit—in a well-lit lecture hall, no less. i tried to ruin the mood as expediently as possible. “excuse me,” i whispered. “i have to go to the bathroom—that garbage burrito I had for dinner last night isn’t sitting too well with me.”
the lecture ended without further incident, and we hopped in my car to go back home. as if to win me over by trying to make me jealous, she started talking about some boyfriend she had that was overseas on a scholarship or something. i found myself not really liking this girl any more. she made one last attempt to try to salvage her attempt at a pleasant date: “are you hungry?” “actually, yes.” “wanna stop somewhere for dinner?” “ok,” i said. i pulled into the nearest mcdonald’s. i got out, asking her if she wanted anything. she obviously wasn’t happy with my choice of fine dining, and said she wasn’t hungry any more. i got myself a super value meal #2, supersized. when I got back in, she couldn’t resist the smell of the fries. “can i have some of your fries?” she asked. “no,” i said. It was silent the rest of the way home; i dropped her off and we never spoke again.
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