Oh, Facebook, how you freaking complete me! Let’s totally make out!
Technically, I should be working. Mainly because I have a deadline in less than three hours and haven’t bothered to start the project. Is it wrong to blame a slipped deadline on a sick brother-in-law? Because I will totally do that. BUT fuck all that, I have a story to tell!
It’s about the tall glass of water who I totally lusted after my entire college experience: The Italian Robot. He was so dreamy. Tall, dark, handsome, a smile which could disarm anyone (including Ghadafi), blue eyes, and devoid of any personality what so ever. But let’s be honest here, at 21 who the hell cares about personalities. All I wanted was to see him with his shirt off (breathless above me). Dude was SMOKING hot!
Senior year we randomly became friends. I walked up to him at a party and introduced myself to him saying, “I’m sure you don’t know who I am, but I live around the corner from you.” He looked straight into my eyes and said, “I know exactly who you are,” and said my name. Had it been a cool thing to do, I would have peed my pants. From that night on we’d bump into each other all the time. There was one drunken occasion when I blurted out to him that I had had a crush on him since sophomore year. His was response was, “Oh you don’t even know!” Too which, being the clever (and totally drunk) person I am I yelled, “No you don’t know!” and stormed out of the bar.
Slick move. I know. I then proceeded to get even more drunk and make out with his roommate at the bar.
A few days later we were at a party together and I asked him to take a picture with me. He said he’s love to, and as we were posing I told him I was going to tell everyone he had been my college boyfriend. “In that case,” he said, “let’s get another one because I wasn’t smiling.” He then gave a stick of gum, and I told him I was going to save half of it and keep it always. 15 years later and I still have that piece of gum in a photo album.
The night before graduation he and his friends all through a big bash. I decided this was the night I was going to throw myself at him and make my move. My liquid courage was ready, all I needed was an opening. Unfortunately, there was this whore faced girl who wouldn’t leave him alone. Finally, with three hours to go until graduation I left the house – never having had the chance to climb him. Sad state of affairs.
We lost touch, not surprising since our “friendship” was based on a series of drunken encounters. Fast forward to today when I was looking through one of my Facebook friend’s recent photo albums. There in the first picture in all his shirtless glory was The Italian Robot.
Let’s not talk about how his arm was around the waist of that whore face troll who cock blocked me in college.