Normally, possessing a desire to relive awkward moments could be classified as masochistic. This is an exception. Last semester two of my roomies left the nest to become "Mrs.____". One of the girls helping to plan the bridal shower, bless her heart, thought it would be a novelty to get a stripper for the occasion. Funny how none of us who enthusiastically agreed to this scheme had boyfriends/fiancées to worry about. Upon the arrival of the stripper, I was mortified not only to see that the guy was posing as an LDS missionary, but he also was the off spring of a very prominent family from my tiny home town. Needless to say, by the time he had finished the deed, I don't think I could have gotten to know him any better (or worse?). Avoiding any eye contact with me, he left and I prayed I wouldn't see him for at least twenty millennia. Strangely enough, when the fiancées found out about the rendezvous, they prayed this very same prayer-- but out of rage rather than embarrassment. I chuckled to think about what his mother would say if only she knew what her valedictorian son was accomplishing at college...
Fast forward a couple of months. I run into the library, and get into the elevator. I look across the cubical and it was just me and the stripper. He cleared his throat. “Um…it always smells like paint thinner in this elevator,” he said. I just smiled. This moment was too juicy to say anything much.
Fast forward another couple months. He is engaged to a beautiful girl. The kind that probably has never heard of a stripper. Let alone imagine she would marry one.
2 comments:
Oh. My. Gosh. That is...wow. *goes to laugh for several hours*
hahahahahaha!!! and im still dying to know who this was...I think I know, but then again I can't be sure.
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