To Mystery Man
I had no expectations when I arrived to Ale St.Patty’s that fateful Tuesday night with my friends. We just wanted to dance, and dance we did. You were so mysterious as you approached me from behind. I never saw your face but I felt a connection immediately. You grabbed me and aggressively grinded on me to the sweet romantic lullaby, “Truffle Butter” by Nicki Minaj. As you disappeared into the shadows after my friend Jenna beckoned me to the bathroom, all I saw was your tight khaki and flannel combo and I knew you were the one.
-The Lady in the Red Dress
To Pretty in Pink,
You appeared before like an angel in a shitstorm, and boy did I need it. While the rest of my housemates were out caravanning, sloshed and merry with Irish cheer, I was bound to suffer in Stauff studying for my APSC-112 final. Then I looked up and locked eyes with you. You seemed distracted as you kept diverting eye-contact, but I knew you were playing hard to get. I leaned back so that you could see how much Yakarma I had gained, but you shifted away uncomfortably. Touché. Let’s drop all pretenses before the sexual tension kills me… CoGro coffee date sometime?
-The Horny Scholar
I struggled to catch up to you as I stumbled past the masses on Aberdeen. It was so hard to distinguish you among the herds of ravenous green drunks, but you were worth it. After you used my beanie to collect your vomit, you handed it back to me, then hastened away yelling “For the boys!” It’s hard to find such a free spirit these days. I hope to bump into you on another religious death day celebration of an Irish saint.
To My Lucky Man,
After years and what I thought was a futile search, I finally found you. The perfect man. I’ve heard tales of your generosity and mischievous ways, and don’t get me wrong a man with financial stability is more than welcome. We left Stages, and you insisted that your place was “just over the rainbow.” Our short time together was magical. But come morning, you had vanished, leaving only a small pot of gold and giggle in the air. I’m confused, did you think I was a prostitute? Because I’m interested in more. Text me.