I was on my way to the Rite-Aid near my school to go buy a folder and a gluestick when I see him walking in my direction. Aw shit, He better not talk to me, I thought to myself. He then stops in front of my and I try to keep walking, but he started talking. Shit.
"Hey, you go to school here?"
"Uhh.... no."
"Oh, you graduated already?"
"Not exactly..."
I wasn't really sure what excuse to make up to leave, and it was already too late to turn myself into a character. At this point, I was just regretting not having started the conversation with a British accent.
"So uhh... what's your name?"
"Myra," I lied.
"Oh, cool. My name's--" Johnny, I know. I blogged about you once. "--Johnny. How old are you"
"Nineteen."
"Oh, that's cool. When's your birthday?"
"Uhh... last month."
"Yeah? Mine was on--" September 22nd, if I remember correctly. I think you shared a birthday with Tom Felton. But seriously, why is it so important to you that people know when your birthday is? Are you gonna tell me that you have soft lips and can type really fast without looking at the keyboard? "--September 22... Uhh, so do you know what UFC is?"
"Yeah," I responded while wondering how the hell he transitioned from his birthdate to UFC.
"Well, I have tickets to go see it. Can I have your number? I'll take you."
"Uhh...."
"What's your number?"
"Sorry, I don't give my number to people I don't know."
"Awww, really? Why not?"
"I just don't. Sorry, I have to go."
Pretty much, I wish I could go back in time and give more clever responses and a better name. This dude totally caught me off guard today. Maybe next time. This is the third time he tries to talk to me and I guess doesn't remember that he's done it before.
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