Dear attractive gentleman who just moved into the building who only appears when I looks like crap,
So it seems we’ve met again just now. You were on your phone outside, wearing a tight-but-not-too-tight royal blue t-shirt that showed off your toned arms. I was wearing sweatpants, a gray t-shirt with stains on it and no bra. My hair was down and stringy and I wasn’t wearing makeup. Perhaps you didn’t recognize me from the last time we met, when the elevator opened on my floor and you were inside, wearing a natty suit and I was outside, holding two large smelly bags of garbage. I do own other clothes, but you wouldn’t know it since you cease to exist when I wear anything other than sweatpants. In fact, you might be a figment of my sweatpants’s imagination. I realize this is a leap, however there are plenty of times I’ve been wearing clothes that don’t also see the inside of a gym, and plenty of times I’ve actually been wearing makeup or at least, say, showered that day, and where are you?
If I were younger and more up for an adventure I would have quickly come back to my apartment tonight, changed and slapped on makeup and then gone back downstairs and tried to play if off like I’m someone else. Perhaps I would have made a passing reference to my lookalike roommate who works weird hours fighting crime but who’s gone undercover as a homebody. But I guarantee you wouldn’t be there.
However I suspect that if I were to put on retainers you’d actually appear in my room, which would be awkward.
And that’s why my teeth are slowly getting crooked.
(Bet that’s not where you thought this was going!)
Later,
Alison
