Image above courtesy of the awesome website www.gratisography.com.
It is a Saturday afternoon like any other.
I am home alone relaxing with a book, and I figure that as I am relaxing, I might as well drink coffee and eat chocolate at the same time.
My peace is disturbed by a knock at the front door, which bloody well is the last damn thing I want to hear at the moment.
I am infuriatingly curious so I can’t prevent myself from getting up to answer it. I decide that if it’s an annoying salesperson I should be able to deal with them relatively quickly if I have to.
I am literally blown away to find an extremely gorgeous man standing in front of me on the front porch with a friendly smile on his face.
This causes me to check the street background to ensure that the world hasn’t in fact ended and I’m not in the middle of an apocalyptic dream.
I can feel my face reddening slightly on account of the fact that I’m not really dressed to meet someone this sexy. I curse myself for having so little self control, and for allowing other people to see that I’m affected by them in this way. Luckily he quickly introduces himself, explaining that he and a mate are renting the house across the road and just want to know what day the wheelie bin goes out. I introduce myself in reply and am as helpful as I can be about the local rubbish arrangements, smiling and playing with my hair as I talk.
The sexy stranger continues to smile and seems pleased with my response, and I’m considering that perhaps I do actually look unexpectedly hot in my grungy home wear. He’s not sporting any wedding rings or anything, so at least I might have a tiny chance. He even gives me a smile after our brief neighbourly chat and tells me he’ll see me round.
Yes, I think to myself as I celebrate with an enthusiastic fist pull!!!!!!!!!!!!! I can’t believe how my Saturday has turned around. A bloke that hot living right across the road who could conceivably be single!!!
As I literally bounce back to my room I pass the bathroom mirror.
That’s when my beaming smile instantly evaporates.
The mirror clearly illustrates that I am currently wearing a large smear of chocolate stretching from one side of my mouth to the edge of my face. Not just a small blotch, a thick smear of dark chocolate that looks like it has positively leaked out of my gluttonous mouth.
The fact that chocolate happens to look a hell of a lot like shit doesn’t help the situation.
To say I want the earth to swallow me up would be a massive understatement. Knowing that I can’t reverse anything that has just happened makes me want to curl up in a ball and hide for the rest of my life.
As this is not possible I instead aggressively wash all trace of the chocolate off my face until it looks like I’ve developed some sort of nasty red pash rash (I wish). At the same time I tell myself that from now on I’m not to open the door or do anything without checking the bathroom mirror. How the f*#! did I end up with this weird developmental deficiency that means I’m prone to smearing food all over my face when I eat anyway?
I also decide that I will look mind blowingly dazzling every time I see him from now on, so that his initial impression will be obliterated immediately.
Instead he will then spend his nights sleepless, rendered helpless by an all-consuming gravitational attraction to my sparkling eyes, curvaceous physique and magnetic lips.
© Annemaree Jensen 2017