Tag Archives: anecdote

“Lady, When You’re With Me I’m Smiling.”

How A Programmer Wooed Me and Serenaded Me

I was at a work party when I first saw him, the programmer. I literally walked up to him and asked, “So, who are you?

We talked a lot that night, and many of us partied until the wee hours of the morning. I remember he was singing, Good morning, good morning!” and I just thought, “That guy’s crazy.

I saw him again at work and recognized him when he passed by on our side of the offices. And I found myself unable to stop thinking about him.

Hence started the flirting.


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I Couldn’t Find His You-Know-What! – And neither could my friend!

I promise this story is clean.

So when I was in high school, my good friend A was dating a guy, and she encouraged me to date his brother. The brother was the type to change girlfriends every few weeks, so I knew it wouldn’t be anything serious, but A said it would be good practice and I could have some fun. This guy’s “name” was B. (I swear that’s actually their initials, I’m just not revealing full names).

B and I were doing massages in my basement one weekend, and we started kissing, feeling each other out a bit.

So I tentatively let my hands travel down his chest and into his pants.

I didn’t feel anything right away.

So I moved my hand to one side but found nothing there, so I travelled to the other side, and still nothing. Keep in mind we’re kissing the whole time, and I’m not very experienced, so I figured,

“I’m just not looking in the right places or the right way.”

I thought, “maybe it’s sticking downwards?”

So I went lower but I still couldn’t find anything.

By this time, I’m feeling rather embarrassed, but I’m not giving up that easily.


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The Girl Who Broke My Nose And Stole My Boyfriend

High-School Drama That Felt Like An Episode of the O.C.

Crack! You know the sound effect in movies when someone gets punched in the face? Imagine that sound inside your head. Now imagine you’re in gym class, high school, and you’re about to win the badminton match, all you have to do is flick the birdie to the other side. But your gym partner, and at the time friend, decides to run across from the other end to whack the birdie. Except she doesn’t whack the birdie, she whacks your nose.

I was 16. And she was part of our gang of friends at the time. And I trusted her. I wasn’t very good at gym, but I was decent enough at badminton. . . I think. Anyway, you can imagine there was a lot of red gushing from my nose. Adrenaline kept me hyped and eager to get to the clinic. Others were passing out around me or running off nauseated. I was in pain, massive pain, but I was surviving.

In the end, I got my nose fixed. Looks better now than it did before it got broken, so there’s that.

So there is me, recovering from my broken nose, sensitive bone, and once summer rolls around (three months later), all I want to do is chill and hang out with my friends. We were four close friends, all girls. One of them is my best friend to this day, I consider her family. Another, a close friend, though we seldom see each other. And the last, the girl who broke my nose.


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