Ode to the Hot Guy at Orientation

17 Nov

I see you.
No but really.
You’re wearing this dark brown polo.
It’s not a Lacoste polo, so yeah, I’m judging you…
But I still see you.
And you see me.
I woke up too late to put on eye liner.
I don’t own “business casual” pants, so I’m wearing yoga pants hoping that no one calls me out.
You are so attractive.
They’re talking about team building and all I’m thinking about is building a relationship with you between power point slides.
Slides that say things like “BE A HERO!” Out of Woody Woodpecker’s mouth.
How about this:
How about I let you be my hero.
Overturn this table, whisk me up into your arms, and take me to Harry Potter World.
We will feast upon butterbeer and Bertie Botts Every Flavor Beans.
You will get pumpkin pie-
I will get ear wax.
We will laugh and our eye contact will linger.
And you will cast a magical spell.
I will say “wingadium leviOHHHHsa!” Because you are just that damn fine.
Oh, hot guy.


One Response to “Ode to the Hot Guy at Orientation”

  1. M. A. Hauck November 25, 2012 at 5:10 pm #

    Dear Ms. Barry:

    Allow me to introduce myself as a former classmate of your mom’s back at Manheim Central, the kind of place that one does not regret leaving unless they have some serious yearning to drive big pick-up trucks, chew snuff, and yes, deep fry anything that is remotely edible. Your mom and I were also fellow lead cast members in a few plays back then. She was the most gifted among her peer group and the last thing I recall about her is that she was planning to attend a theater school in North Carolina. Please pass along to her my best wishes and please ask her to email me sometime. I’d love to catch up.

    I would be remiss if I didn’t offer you some very sincere compliments about your writing skill. You have the potential to write the Next Great American Novel of your generation. You have a very distinct and entertaining voice, reminiscent of the style of Elizabeth Wurtzel or Tama Janowitz mold (sorry, I’m dating myself here!) I particularly enjoy how you make no bones about being a cultural snob. I, too, would impose a kind of litmus test on potential date partners based primarily on my particular musical and cinematic preferences. The first thing an artist needs to learn is that they must create to please themselves first. Never stop writing. If you can, trying joining a comedy improv troop. You’ll learn more about acting that way. I certainly did. You’ll be able to perform pieces that you’ve written. You are fortunate to have access to The Second City, too. Next to The Groundlings in L.A., the best in the country.

    Keep up the good work and best of luck in the future,

    Mark Anthony Hauck

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