There once was a boy that asked a girl out. This charming suitor asked this fair lass for a date by the means of a one, Facebook. Insta-lame. (Boys, don't do this.) The girl said yes. The plan was one of grand proportions. They were going to head to Porter Park, have a nerf gun fight, and swing on the swings. (Classic Rexburg.) 15 minutes before the blessed date was to begin, the boy texts the girl and tells her that he doesn't want to do this plan anymore. Plan B? He is going to come over and play cards.
This is what the girl is thinking. Lame. Super lame, in fact. But she relents, because she is interested in the guy.
She decides to give a heads up to her roommates and let them know that the boy is coming over. She sends a messages that goes a little something like this:
Hey, my date is really lame and is coming over to play cards. Just so you know when you get back. Love you!
Harmless, right? Perhaps a little hasty. I'm sure playing cards would have been super fun.
5 minutes pass. The little black LCD screen illuminated, and the bell chimed. Text message. From her date. It goes a little something like this:
Did you mean to send that? Sorry I'm so lame.
At this moment, the girl's life flashed before her eyes. All of the breath in her body felt like it was being squeezed out of her. That just happened.
Text with caution, young lovers. |
The date goes well. The boy even asks for a second date, much to the shock of the girl. But in the end, it never really goes anywhere. The girl attributes it to the awkward communication at the start.
The moral? Don't tell your date he is lame. Especially via text.
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