September 1, 2011 by Manny Wordsmith
Dear Miss Library Phone Talker,
I don’t know you very well, but I know you have no respect for others. I also know this phone call that you’re on with your boyfriend is just your way of reassuring some fairy-tale love story you conjured up over the summer. You’ve had no issues or gripes for the last couple months. You guys went up north, hit up the lake a couple of times and you even met his parents. You guys had sex. It wasn’t the best at first but as you learned each other’s bodies things spruced up and now you two are as smooth as silk.
But you’re bored so your mind wanders, leading you to his Facebook page. You have 2 hours between classes, so you think, “Why not look at his “Kick-ass Summer 2011″ album that I’m tagged in over 133 times. That should help me pass the time before I head to Psychology 101!” But to your surprising eye you discover that your boyfriend Jake added some girl named Leslie as a friend, minutes after you left his house last night. Your perplexed, but not fearful of this girl. That’s until you click her name and see her unblocked pics.
Now the comparisons start.
You see that her boobs are bigger than yours, and that her hair is longer. Her clothing fits tighter and she’s not afraid to show her stomach. You think about the new jeans you picked up from Target and the cute shirt you got from Forever 21 that you were planning to wear on your date tonight, but now those things suddenly feel inefficient.
All of Leslie’s summer day pics are her in bikinis, winking at the camera with her mouth open and pandering around a bunch of shirtless guys. Her nightlife pics place her in random kitchens or basements with her hands wrapped around top shelf vodka and rum. You don’t even drink and you can’t stand walking around the beach without shorts over your bottoms.
So you remember that your shy and slightly prudish and that partying has never been a big thing for you. You like bonfires and country music, comfortable hoodies, hairbands and volleyball. This girl is into Lil Wayne, Ke$ha, sneaking into clubs, drinking till she pukes, flashing strangers and taking care of her Pomeranian named Snooki.
Your anger and jealously rises and you start mumbling to yourself quietly, attempting to hide it behind the virginal Indian girls sitting next to you who are giggling at Chris Brown’s sexual dance moves on YouTube. But I hear you. I hear words like, “What a skank!” and “Who the hell wears things like that?” I hear you pick up and put down your phone, probably checking to see if Jake has answered your texts yet, but he hasn’t.
You’re furious so you call two of your friends and direct them to Jake’s page. They see what you see and feel the same way. Sam mentions that her birthdate makes her 18 like you, but her clothing style and obvious leisure activities makes her seem a lot older. Maybe 2o or 21.
He says, “I’d totally hook-up with her, but Jake isn’t like that. He’s in love with you.”
It’s not enough for you. You can’t get this girl out of your head and there is no way possible you can go to the second class of your freshman year, thinking about your first and only boyfriend sexing it up with some girl that can literally knock you out of the park on everything you think guys want.
You make the call.
“Hey…yeah sorry for waking you up sweetie…you sound so cute in the morning…what I’m doing? Oh just sitting in the library my class isn’t till 2…Yeah I just wanted to hear your voice…I love you…aww…hey I was on your Facebook earlier, and I saw that you added someone new…I’m pretty sure you did…I’m looking at it right now…You probably did? Probably? I had just left your fucking house Jake. You can’t remember?…So who the fuck is Leslie then? Who is she?…What?…Oh…wow…I feel like a bitch…so your cousin…and she’s gonna be at your mom’s tonight?…Can’t wait to meet her…
Thank you for stealing the last 30 minutes of my life. Now Every one will know how crazy you are. Let this be a lesson to you ladies,boredom is a killer and Facebook is the weapon. Peace!