C’est Moi

This is me reaching my hand out to shake yours. I suggest you take it (unless you’re a germ-a-phobe, in which case, I don’t want to know you anyways. You’ll just make my head hurt from continuously rolling my eyes at you).

I’ll say, “I’m Jerrica.” Then I’d smile to show my dimple and bat my eyes so you notice I don’t wear contacts. You will compliment me, then I’d then say something sarcastic but funny, then subtly compliment you. You may not even realize it though, that is how subtle it will be. You will immediately be intrigued to know how my super large ego fits into my pint-sized body, the you will join me for an alcoholic beverage (unless you don’t drink, in which case, I don’t want to be friends with you anyways. I rather not be judged for the euphoric reaction I have to every sip of liquor I take).

After a few drinks we will be able to figure out whether you can handle my unfiltered comments and dirty-old-man-like grunts whenever an attractive guy walks by. If you laugh at my jokes and show even the slightest acceptance in my behaviour, we will be friends. If you throw out a few “fuck-offs” and “cocksuckers” during conversation and grunt at hot men with me, I will ask you to move in with me. My hot superman Swedish fiance will understand and accept it eventually. He is off-limits, though you are allowed to grunt at him whenever he walks by.

Well, it’s been lovely to meet you. I hope we can do this again. Here is a high-five for the road. Don’t forget to line up the elbows first. Perfect. See ya soon.

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