I had a decent idea for something to write about the other day, coming home from work, but I forgot what it was since I didn’t have anything to write it down on. Probably something about my ridiculous commute. Oh well, I’m sure it will come back to me at like, four in the morning. Actually, I just found a really interesting prompt on Reddit: Make me fall in love with a girl, but only using words of negative connotation. Sorry for jumping all over the place; I’m thinking as I type. In fact, I’m not even going to write this right away. I’m going to need some time to think about how to do this. I’ll be back… Back. Here we go.
Not What I Was Expecting
A loud, obnoxious scream from across the room grabs my attention, as well as everyone else in the house, and probably the neighbors as well. Everything stopped in its tracks to try to find the source of the ear-piercing, eardrum-shattering scream that somehow managed to be heard over the music.
As I go to find the potential murder victim, laughter can be heard coming from the basement. Confused, I go downstairs and see a large crowd around you. I catch a glimpse of you, dancing on top of a table.
“What’s going on?” I ask someone standing next to me.
“She was dancing and ran straight into one of the support beams. She hit her head so fucking hard, man, you should have seen it.”
“Is that why she yelled?”
“No, she blacked out,” he says, like it should have been obvious.
“Why did did she yell?”
“Her song came on, which woke her up. She’s trying to play it cool, like nothing happened.”
“So why were you laughing?”
“Look at her, man!”
I look and I instantly see what he’s talking about. The girl is close to two hundred pounds, a little over five feet tall. On the table, she tries to twerk, but it’s hard to separate her ass from the rest of her body, making it look like she’s having a seizure. It doesn’t help that she seems to be stuck in a permanent duck-face and singing the wrong words to the song that’s on.
“You see, bro?” he asks, laughing.
“I do,” I say.
The girl hops down from the table, looking for someone to dance with. I get the guy’s name and share a couple laughs with him. His name is Kyle. Anyways, I guess the girl sees me smiling and comes over to me. She doesn’t realize we’re laughing at her. I wonder why girls like her always seem to gravitate towards me.
“What’s your name?” she asks.
I don’t respond, pretending not to hear her.
“Your name!” she yells.
Again, I say nothing.
This time, though, she grabs my arm, and spins me around. I notice how hard she’s grabbing me, and yell, some sort of primal attempt to scare her away. It doesn’t work though.
“Are you deaf?” she asks.
“No,” I finally respond. She spits when she talks. I try to avoid it as best as I can.
“He speaks!” she yells to the crowd of people, none of which are paying any attention.
“You have a nice smile,” she tells me.
“Thanks,” I say, uninterested.
“People tell me I have nice eyes. They’re green, like my mom’s.”
I notice she has a lazy eye.
“Do you want to dance?” she asks.
“No, I’m actually going.”
She grabs my wrist and drags me into the crowd. She rubs her giant ass all over me, while not letting go of my hands, which she places on her thighs. I feel the rolls of fat and imagine my hands getting trapped, never to return again, forever unclean.
Kyle comes back and takes a picture. He says we look good together. I know he’s fucking with me, though. I tell the girl to get off for a second, so I could talk to Kyle. She asks me to introduce her to him, but I choose to ignore her instead. I look at the picture on his phone and notice I’m smiling. This confuses me. How could I smile during such a shitty situation? I’ve always been into skinny girls. I enjoy being in control. This girl took control of me, though. I hate to admit it, but it was kind of cool. A good change of pace, I tell myself.
She finds me outside with Kyle, smoking a cigarette.
“You smoke?” she asks obnoxiously.
“It’ll kill you.”
“So will being fat as fuck like you,” says Kyle butting in.
She screams at him and runs inside. I follow.
“I’m just trying to have a good time,” I hear her say to one of the girls I’m assuming she came in with.
“Don’t worry about him. He’s a dick,” her friend says.
“That guy didn’t even have my back. I thought we were getting along.”
“I know. I saw you guys dancing. He seemed like he was really into it.”
“I think he’s just wasted. No one would want to be with someone like me.”
Her friend realizes this is probably true. I see it in her eyes. She’s much prettier than her. She’s the type I usually go for. I would try tonight, but I don’t think that’s going to happen. In fact, it actually annoyed me when she said I wouldn’t like a girl like her. I’m not that big of a dick. I like to give people chances. I could have made a scene when she forced herself on me. Now that I think about it, I’ve never met anyone so ugly in my life.
But why do I feel bad? I don’t even think that’s the right way to put it. I get where she’s coming from. She lives a carefree life. I can respect that. She knows she’s not close to attractive, but she doesn’t let it stop her. I’ve always wanted to meet a girl like that. Carefree. I’d never be able to dance on a table in the middle of a house party looking the way she does.
I really should talk to her, apologize for not having her back before. I’d be pissed too if that happened to me. I pump myself up, and go back inside to find that girl.
“Hey,” I say, tapping her on the shoulder, “I want to apologize about before.”
She turns around smiling. She wasn’t expecting it to be me, I guess. She mustn’t have heard me over the music. When she does realize who I am, all she says is, “Fuck you! Get away, asshole!” I never felt more embarrassed and hurt in my life. Kyle gives me a beer and I chug it. I finish the one I had from before and hope to God I don’t remember any of this tomorrow.