DAMMIT HE DRIVES AN SUV

I met a guy who wants to be nice to me without letting on too much that he wants in my pants, so I’m gonna go with him to let him buy me food (we discussed it; I’m broke, I said, and he asked me out anyways so I’m not a gold digger) and then we’re gonna go to a movie and probably see that Melissa McCarthy movie, Spy, and I’ll not let on that I know he wants to kiss me the whole time, and he’ll act like he doesn’t – we’re just watching a movie like two dudes hanging out at the movies together who share popcorn and are totally not gay because we have our own beverages – then we’ll leave the movie and get in his light blue Toyota with a black line all the way around it, because that’s what kind of car I imagine this guy would drive, because he doesn’t look handy or violent enough to be a Ford guy and he’s not closet-cased enough to drive a Kia, and he’ll take me home, unless we want to do something else, like go bowling, because guys like to go bowling, and I’m pretty good without practice because I’m a left-handed bowler I just never win; pizza, and I’ll take my computer to my closet-cased friend’s house who drives a Kia and use his wifi to post this on my blog, because that’s what I do after a night of bowling after a Melissa McCarthy movie after eating substantially large chicken strip appetizers at Cheddars with a guy who won’t act like he wants in my pants.

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