A strike-list -- in approximately chronological order -- of what I'm doing in your room while you stupidly wander off to take a shower. aka: an itemized account of why no one should have a one-night stand with me ever ever ever.
Vanity searching my name on your Gmail. Guess you probably should have logged out of your account, huh?
Going through your bookshelf. What's this, sir? The spine of your Portable Dorothy Parker isn't even lightly worn? And you seem to be using it to hide a dog-eared copy of The Da Vinci Code?! Tsk, tsk.
Checking the sizes of your clothes. This is such a terrible thing to do that I cannot defend it. But you know next time you're alone in a frenemy's room, you're going to try it too.
Rifling through your underwear drawer. While I'm already in your chest of drawers, no harm in pawing around to see if I can uncover old lover letters, a Vicodin stash, or a few -- ahem -- artsy photographs of you and your ex.
Pulling a tape measure out of my purse to measure the square footage of your bedroom. Yes, I do actually carry a tape measure; no, this is not its sole (or even most common) use. Still, if you've ever lived in a 200-square-foot microstudio, you too know the joy and sorrow of becoming a recreational real estate appraiser.
Posted by TKOG from Not That Kind of Girl.
- fun times
- guest post
- wise words