Worst Break Up Ever, Part IV

I was a confident person in college.

But that night, we hooked up. And by hooked up I mean “sat next to each other and kissed good night.” With tongue! And if anyone’s reading this for salacious details, let me save you some time. Much like Meatloaf, this story ain’t going past third base. In fact, it wasn’t even that close. While Meatloaf at least gets thrown out in a close play at the plate, (all together now “Stop right there!!!” Before we go any further…”), I rounded third base, tripped over my own feet, fell face first into the coaches box, and was mercifully tagged out by the catcher while crawling forward.

But this isn’t about all the fun we had getting my fingers untangled from her bra. Nope. This is about her dumping my ass in a public and humiliating fashion, thereby earning herself the sworn hatred of pretty much anyone who was there to witness the scene, or anyone who heard about it, and pretty much anyone who read the classified ads I later took out to tell the entire campus what a bitch she was. OK, one of those things didn’t happen, but I’ll let you guess which one.