She works at a store that sells inflatable palm trees and cat wall clocks with eyes that move back and forth.* My big (but younger) sister will rue the day she gave this girl my phone number. I now receive the most inane texts messages of mind numbing minutia such as wardrobe debacles and meal menus. I mean, if one has time to text “busy at work” they are probably lying. My sister informed me that this girl is “warm for my form.” I threw the dog at her and forbade her from ever referring to my “form” again.
I’m a nice guy so instead of telling this girl to buzz off I decided to take her to a gory movie so she would think I’m creepy and leave me alone. Little did I know that she would manage to find something chick-flicky and romantic amidst the carnage and mayhem. She assumed I was just trying to scare her so she would grab my hand for support.
Now she thinks horror films are “our thing” and wants to rent these gross slasher movies hoping to shriek and jump in my lap or something. She’s into Marilyn Manson and Nine Inch Nails and has morphed into this goth wanna-be with black fingernails and eyeliner. Worse, she tries to smoke clove cigarettes.
I filed a restraining order.
*The store also sells neon palm trees and crepe paper palm trees and other stupid things, like beads.