Story Time

So I'm sitting in the dorm Thursday night by myself with nothing to do, when I think "Hey, I'm kind of hungry." So I take out my phone and call my good buddy Aaron Hopwood and ask him what he's up to. "Oh, I'm just eating at the Student Union," he says. "Who all is there?" "Uh, me, Susanna, and a bunch of rush girls," he responds. "So its pretty much just you and Susanna?" "Yep. But you can come if you want." So I said "Ok, I think I will. I'll be down there in a few minutes."

So I begin the long and strenuous on-foot journey up the hill to the Student Union, wondering why the Union is open so late (by this time it is probably 9:30p). When the Union is finally in sight, I notice a strange fact. There is not a single guy in a 60-yeard radius of this place. "Oh well, maybe they're all inside," I think to myself. So I walk in the doors and walk up into the food court.

There are probably 400 girls there. And 1 guy. That would be me.

Now don't get me wrong--I'm a fan of the ladies. But at this moment I knew something had to be terribly wrong for me to be the only guy there.

"What the heck?" I think to myself. "I am going to fight Hopwood."

So, I slowly walk through trying to figure out whats going one, when I decide to call Hopwood. No answer. "Yep, he's dead."

I see some girls I know waving at me, so I walk over to them and ask them what this is all about. They explain to me that every girl that is rushing has to stay at the Union until 1:00am. They then tell me some rediculous stories about frat guys who had been following them around all night, making cat-calls at them.

Around that time, I see Hopwood in the back corner of the union.

"I gotta go, I gotta talk to Hopwood. I'll see y'all later."

"What the heck, man!?" I say.
"What?" he asks.
"When you told me that it was you, Susanna, and a bunch of sorrority girls here, I didn't think you literally meant JUST YOU, SUSANNA, AND A BUNCH OF SORRORITY GIRLS!"
"Oh, my bad, haha." he says.

So I decide that, since I'm here, I'm just gonna get some food and not make it a wasted trip. While I'm waiting in line, a gross realization makes its way into my head--the realization that I'm THAT guy. All these girls think I'm the guy thats there just to try to get my pimp on and what not. I freeze with humiliation. I am THAT guy.

While I'm pondering this, a friend of mine named Allie comes up to me. We make a little small talk and then I tell her about how embarassed I am about being here. She says she understands and then pauses. "NO YOU CANNOT HAVE MY NUMBER!" she yells and then walks off. 15 girls turn around and stare at me with disgusted looks on their faces.

FIN