common denominator of the lowest of the low, often with a bonus tendency to shout and swear… she leaned her cheek on her curled hand and gazed around the cubicle farm in abject boredom and despair.
Her eyes lit up as her inbox indicator changed from zero to one. She hovered her mouse over the button, relishing the moment. Even though it was probably a dud, every unsolicited message was like playing the lottery, and she enjoyed the rush. She waited a moment more, imagining and hoping at the possibilities, and then she clicked.
You’re really cute.
“Another winner,” Lynn grumbled at her monitor, before she looked at the sender’s picture. Her eyes widened as she realized her one-line disappointment had been sent by - a girl! She checked her profile and confirmed that she was still listed as ‘straight.’ Frowning, she clicked the female sender’s picture. Her profile was rather sparse, and listed her as straight, too…
Hey there, said a sudden message box in the corner of her screen. Lynn silently cursed, only then remembering that the website notified people that were online when someone looked at their profile.
Uh, hi, she wrote back after a moment, still wondering how the mix-up in messaging had happened. Lynn clicked through her pictures - the girl was at a bar or a party in every picture. She had short black hair, pale porcelain skin, a metal lip stud, and seemed to favor bright red lipstick. She was obviously from a scene Lynn herself had never really been a part of in college… how old was this girl, anyway? She clicked over, and her jaw dropped slightly.
Like what you see?
Lynn looked around at her coworkers, wondering if somebody had found her profile and was playing a prank on her, but nobody seemed to be paying attention.
lol , what is this? Lynn wrote back. Are you really only twenty?
Yeah, is that a problem? came the quick response.
No, I mean, what’s a twenty year old girl doing messaging me?
I think you’re cute, duh. Can’t you read?
She sat back in her chair for a moment, confused. She’d tried to dance around the issue, tried to beat around the bush, but she could see this girl wasn’t the type to mince words. As was her habit when stressed, she unthinkingly stuck her tongue out to the side a little as she typed her very direct response.
I mean we’re both straight, so what’s this about?
What, can’t a girl think another girl is cute?
Relieved, Lynn sighed. She felt a little bad for being so confrontational.
Oh, ok. Thanks :)
A moment passed before the girl’s response appeared.
Sure. Want to hang out?
Hang out? Lynn asked, surprised. Like what?
I don’t know, a bar or a club, whatever. You do drink, right?
Of course I drink! she wrote back, wondering how awkward it would be to hang out with a twenty-year old - and confused as to why she was even entertaining the notion. She still felt a little bad for questioning the girl’s intent, and she did feel complemented…
Come on, it’ll be fun!
Ok, alright, she gave in, surprising herself. But when and where specifically?
Tonight around nine. What’s your number?
Lynn messaged her cell number, still confused, surprised, and cautious.
Cool, I’ll text you later!
And with that, the girl logged off.
Lynn sat motionless in her chair, stunned. She had absolutely no idea why she’d agreed to hang out with some random twenty-year old girl off the internet… if the girl was even a girl at all… she wasn’t really worried that it was secretly some old creeper, but it was still best to be cautious. But what if she was real? She’d agreed to go drinking with some strange young girl… probably down on campus, where she hadn’t been in years… and she hadn’t even gotten her name…
Even worse than that, she hadn’t specified that their hanging out wasn’t a date.
She looked at the clock, worried. What had she gotten herself into?
And why, even with all these concerns, was she still a little bit excited?
She
Her eyes lit up as her inbox indicator changed from zero to one. She hovered her mouse over the button, relishing the moment. Even though it was probably a dud, every unsolicited message was like playing the lottery, and she enjoyed the rush. She waited a moment more, imagining and hoping at the possibilities, and then she clicked.
You’re really cute.
“Another winner,” Lynn grumbled at her monitor, before she looked at the sender’s picture. Her eyes widened as she realized her one-line disappointment had been sent by - a girl! She checked her profile and confirmed that she was still listed as ‘straight.’ Frowning, she clicked the female sender’s picture. Her profile was rather sparse, and listed her as straight, too…
Hey there, said a sudden message box in the corner of her screen. Lynn silently cursed, only then remembering that the website notified people that were online when someone looked at their profile.
Uh, hi, she wrote back after a moment, still wondering how the mix-up in messaging had happened. Lynn clicked through her pictures - the girl was at a bar or a party in every picture. She had short black hair, pale porcelain skin, a metal lip stud, and seemed to favor bright red lipstick. She was obviously from a scene Lynn herself had never really been a part of in college… how old was this girl, anyway? She clicked over, and her jaw dropped slightly.
Like what you see?
Lynn looked around at her coworkers, wondering if somebody had found her profile and was playing a prank on her, but nobody seemed to be paying attention.
lol , what is this? Lynn wrote back. Are you really only twenty?
Yeah, is that a problem? came the quick response.
No, I mean, what’s a twenty year old girl doing messaging me?
I think you’re cute, duh. Can’t you read?
She sat back in her chair for a moment, confused. She’d tried to dance around the issue, tried to beat around the bush, but she could see this girl wasn’t the type to mince words. As was her habit when stressed, she unthinkingly stuck her tongue out to the side a little as she typed her very direct response.
I mean we’re both straight, so what’s this about?
What, can’t a girl think another girl is cute?
Relieved, Lynn sighed. She felt a little bad for being so confrontational.
Oh, ok. Thanks :)
A moment passed before the girl’s response appeared.
Sure. Want to hang out?
Hang out? Lynn asked, surprised. Like what?
I don’t know, a bar or a club, whatever. You do drink, right?
Of course I drink! she wrote back, wondering how awkward it would be to hang out with a twenty-year old - and confused as to why she was even entertaining the notion. She still felt a little bad for questioning the girl’s intent, and she did feel complemented…
Come on, it’ll be fun!
Ok, alright, she gave in, surprising herself. But when and where specifically?
Tonight around nine. What’s your number?
Lynn messaged her cell number, still confused, surprised, and cautious.
Cool, I’ll text you later!
And with that, the girl logged off.
Lynn sat motionless in her chair, stunned. She had absolutely no idea why she’d agreed to hang out with some random twenty-year old girl off the internet… if the girl was even a girl at all… she wasn’t really worried that it was secretly some old creeper, but it was still best to be cautious. But what if she was real? She’d agreed to go drinking with some strange young girl… probably down on campus, where she hadn’t been in years… and she hadn’t even gotten her name…
Even worse than that, she hadn’t specified that their hanging out wasn’t a date.
She looked at the clock, worried. What had she gotten herself into?
And why, even with all these concerns, was she still a little bit excited?
She
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