Not the writer you wanted but the writer you got
So I had a friend stay over last week and she has a friend who lives across the street from me. My friend is a very enthusiastic positive person that always makes you feel like a million box even if you are shit/look like shit. So she tells her friend I’m a writer and I’m getting published by the end of the month (which is true), but I also studied engineering and basically I’m described as this mythical creature to said friend and she just wants to meet me.
Comes Monday. The friend that stayed here is writing her 5 hour long exam in the City. I’m in my pjs, hair uncombed and wild, washing dishes when my JAM comes up. I put the music on LOUD, like way louder past being considerate but it’s 3 pm, everyone should be at work and my JAM just came up. My jam is “slept so long” by Jonathan Davis. AND I’M SCREAMING THAT SHIT WITH PASSION NOT GIVING A SHIT WHO HEARS I SEEEEE HELLLLLL IN YOUR EEEYEESSS TAKEN IN BY SURPRISE when I hear something out of place... Seconds later I hear another sound, it’s my friend, back early. I scream my hands are wet, she has a key. She doesn’t come in. I go to the door, music still screaming.
The friend who wanted to meet the mythical writer is standing there...and everyone is awkward. She forgot her key. I have to open. I put the music off, my hands are wet to my elbows. Nothing mythical about me just extreme embarrassment there’s not a lot I can say.
