I am Eleven

Hello friends.

As a  preface to my story I will give you some stats about myself. I’m a small girl, maxing out at 5’1. I have kind of a child-like face and I often act like a child.

Alright, now that we have that out of the way…moving on.

My younger sister is still a child and her 6th grade class is trying to raise money for a lame-o trip to Boston. Some genius suggested they through a spaghetti dinner for the community, and ticket proceeds would go towards their day of frolicking.  Despite the fact that I hate spaghetti and small children serving me food, I made my way to her elementary school missing every minute of Friday Night Lights. I was welcomed by creepy children with painted on mustaches and black aprons galore. I was ushered to my table and given a menu. The elaborate menu looked something like this:

Spaghetti with sauce

Spaghetti with sauce and meatballs

Spaghetti with sauce and vegetarian meatballs.

OH THE CHOICES. After not choosing anything [my mom brought me my own dinner in a tupperware because I am a spoiled brat] I settled into my table and surroundings. I was sitting with two couples I’ve never seen before and I was trying to be pleasant. In true awkward form, I  started with an apology;

“Sorry I’m randomly sitting here, this is just my sister’s table and I want to heckle her”

All true, still awkward. The gentleman sitting across the table from me looked at me kindly and asked;

“Oh that’s quite alright. So are you over there at the Middle School?”

Yup. This guy just asked me if I was twelve. He was only about eleven years off. Like the polite, tactful lady I am I responded;

“Well. Not only am I not in middle school, I graduated that place, high school AND COLLEGE. I’m also getting married in August.” BURN.

The man just stared at me in disbelief. Literal disbelief. He wasn’t sure if he could accept the fact that this small girl he assumed was only a child was in fact old enough to hit on. Which he then did.

FML.

-A

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