Rite-Aid Cashier - m4w - 30
You rang up my prescription. We started chatting and I felt a vibe. Was about to ask you out, but then you had a phone call. Looked on the receipt and saw your name was Marissa. Except it was spelled with a 'Y' in alternating caps with tildes and asterisks. Thanks for saving me the price of dinner.
Guy at the coffee shop - w4m - 23
I think you have the wrong idea. I'm not into William Faulkner or any of the guys you read while sitting in the corner and hoping I'll notice you. I only asked about your Emily Dickenson book because I heard Modest Mouse is named after her. I'll still serve your latte, but this is getting a little awkward.
Girl at Borders - m4w - 19
Talked to you while browsing the manga section. Your opinions on Gunsmith Cats are insufferable. Would love to sit down and explain what "symbolism" and "character arc" really mean, just not when I'm immersed in the latest Excel Saga. By the way, it's pronounced ON-i-may.
Your Chuck Taylor's rendezvous with my face - m4w - 22 - (Warped Tour)
Crowd surfing is great and all - I like touching a sweaty boob as much as the next guy - but there's a certain weight at which it becomes an act of sadism. (Hint: if you're unsure if you're too heavy, YOU PROBABLY ARE.) Really though, I enjoyed the back spasms from your massive girth, and your drunken heckling of the guy who introduced Bloodfist. Your Myspace request must've got lost or something.
It's time to pay a call on ... someone else! - w4m - 27 - (A.J.'s Halloween party)
Okay, your "Thing from The Addams Family" costume was sort of creative. As was popping out of a box when I refilled my drink. But that does not give you carte blanche to grope my boobs! The first few times I thought it was an accident. After you unhooked my bra, I wasn't so sure. Then I peeked under the table and saw what you were doing with your other hand. My boyfriend's a 200-lb ex-marine and will rip off your "thing" for real!
Stop flirting with me! - w4m - 45
Stop flirting with me when I'm horseback riding. Your coy winks and amorous looks won't get you anyhere. Nor will complimenting my Morgan, no matter how much you love his smooth mane, glossy coat, and firm buttocks. Admiring his genitals won't get you any traction either. And no, you can't have a picture of his derriere, it's such a weird request.
Sorry buddy - m4m - 44
Saw you making eyes at me across the bar. Don't know what you were thinking but my door don't swing that way. That's why I wear a shirt that says "I like men" to show I just like men and don't love 'em. Thought it was clear enough but I guess I was wrong.
Losing Face - m4w - 29 - (O'Malley's Tavern, Bridge St.)
Look, it's not my fault. I explained what prosopagnosia is, I told you I can't distinguish between faces. The reason I was kissing your sister in the john is because I thought she was you. I tried to explain, but you stormed off in a huff. If you're this insensitive about disabilities, then I'm glad we didn't hook up. Your sister's less annoying anyway.
No regrets - m4w - 83
Met you at Bingo Night at the town hall, mid-30s, purple dress, gorgeous figure. Said to join you in your convertible in the parking lot. Took me a minute to lug my oxygen tank outside. When I got there, a young fella had jumped in instead. You told him to get out, but he wouldn't budge. You turned into a skeleton and started laughing. Said he'd just taken someone else's date - with death! Then you drove off a cliff and out of my life forever. Just as well, since I only like trannies.
Elliot said my breakup must have been due to the sweater curse, an unexplained phenomenon where anyone who gives their significant other a hand-knit sweater gets dumped. The only way to break the curse, Elliot said, was to destroy the sweater.
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