I know. It’s weird that I’m posting so much. I apologize to the people that subscribe to this thing, because I’m clogging your inbox with posts that involve words like “pooping” even more than usual. It’s just that I have things to say, some of which involve poop.
There’s been a That Guy sighting! I was in the car with Allison and we were driving to a graduation party, and we would have to pass That Guy’s house to get to it. I know where That Guy’s house is, because I’m a creep and I like to know these things. (My friends told me! It’s not like I looked it up!) I used to drive past his house quite frequently because I’d have to pass it to get to Claire’s house, thereby giving me the perfect excuse, but then she moved across the country and ruined everything. But anyway, every time I drove past his house, I would, you know, glance at it. I was hoping maybe he’d be shooting baskets in his driveway or mowing the lawn or something, but he never was.
Anyway, Allison reminded me that it was coming up, but I’m a fantastic creep and I need no reminding. I said, “Wouldn’t it be funny if he was like looking out the front window and I did this?” and then I plastered my face and hands against the car window as we drove past.
Of course, there he was in all his glory, standing on his porch and staring pensively into the distance like a perfect human man. Wearing a purple shirt, like some kind of paragon of masculine perfection. And there I was with my face pressed against the glass. Just another day in the life.
“You’re right,” she snickered. “That was funny.”