At Times I Am Downright Maniacal

Dear girl who shot down my party invitation,

What is the deal, girl who shot down my party invitation? I don’t think you appreciate the work that went into trying to get you to that party! My friend thought you were cute and pointed you out when we went to your place of work, a bizarre Chinese-Mexican combo place. You knew his name and paid slightly more attention to him than you did to me. I am so super hot that this can only mean that you are into him or myopic. I tried to get him to invite you to the party and he chatted you up while your co-worker fed me all sorts of spicy food. I do not like spicy food, girl who shot down my party invitation!

So he didn’t ask you that night. The party was in a scant few days! We did what we had to do. We went back the next day! You were not even working. We had to sit in gloomy defeat and eat Chinese food quesadillas for the second day in a row. Do you know what happens when you eat Chinese food quesadillas two days in a row? You get a lot of time to yourself, sitting on the toilet until your feet go numb.

Well, we are no quitters and you had told my buddy that your little shop of gastrointestinal horrors would be selling special delicious cookies on Saturday. Saturday was the day of the party and, incidentally, the day after visit two! That’s right, we came back for cookies! However someone with the worst taste ever decided to have their wedding reception at a Chinese-Mexican fast food place. While I meandered around so he could ask you, the boss of the whole store offered me free samples. I took it, to be polite, but it was chicken with green crap on it. I pretended to like it and threw it away when he wasn’t looking. I was beginning to get the impression that my friend was not going to ask you and the very act of being in that store was making my intestines slither and my bowels weep so I told him I was going to ask you and get it over with. I sauntered over when you were by yourself setting up the buffet and tried to start a conversation. Turns out I talk a big game but when it comes down to it I couldn’t ask you either. Sorry girl who shot down my party invitation but I couldn’t think of a segue from “is that guy really the owner” to “come to this party tonight to make out with my friend.”

Finally you were back behind the counter and it was time to make the move. You came to help us. I said we had been told your store would be selling very special cookies that day. I acted like I knew nothing about them, even though I had choked down a sample earlier. You asked how many I wanted, six or twelve. I turned to my friend. “What do you think? A dozen? We should get some for the party.” Then I turned back to you. “We’re having a party tonight. Would you like to come?” Girl who shot down my party invitation, this was not an off-the-cuff, spur-of-the-moment idea. This was carefully formulated to appear casual! And you told me you had to go to a barbeque. I let this roll away as if it were just a little idea that was not the basis for going to the same eatery three days in a row. But then you asked me what my name was.

Girl who shot down my party invitation, I was not asking you out on my behalf. You gave me agony of the colon. This is not something I look for in a girl. Quit sweating me.

Sincerely,
JD

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