As the party dwindled down, I continued to lie motionless on the floor, pretending to be asleep. When my name came up among the remaining guests, I knew it was the moment of truth. Even though I technically hadn’t been invited to the party and didn’t know anyone there, I hoped that the consensus would be that despite the shroud of mystery surrounding me, I had turned out to be quite the charming gentleman.
“Did you see how much garbage he ate out of the trashcan?” asked one woman. “It didn’t even look like he was hungry. Just really mad at something.”
“I’m getting better,” I thought.
If I wasn’t already in love, I’d be stalking tomoatmeal.
Reblogged from tomoatmeal
