Three strikes, you’re out!

michelleI was really into this one guy when I was younger.

He was a drummer.

Just one of several drummers I dated.

I guess I have a thing for lumberjacks AND drummers.

The thing about him was that he was just absolutely THE DEFINITION OF SEXY.

Dark hair, dark eyes, nice biceps honed from years of going apeshit on his tubs.

He was also EVER SO SLIGHTLY younger than me.

I was so excited when he asked me out.

I remember he got lost on the way to my house to pick me up.

He drove an old truck.

Bonus!

Be still my heart.

In any case, he picked me up and we went out and for the life I me I don’t recall where we went or what we did.

All I know is that when it came time to say goodnight, he was dropping my off at my house and I leaned in the car window to give him a kiss and when the kiss was over, he said (I KID YOU NOT), “Good night Lisa. I mean Melissa. I mean Michelle.”

Now, at the time I was CRUSHED by this turn of events.

But as time has passed, I have realized that it wasn’t all that bad.

I’m such a good kisser I clearly kissed all the sense from his head and he couldn’t remember my name.

Yeah, that’s what happened!

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