and entering

Confessions of a Plain Girl

If you squint and turn your head a bit to the left, you can see that I am indeed in this photo.

By A Plain Girl 

I, Plain Girl™, have entered into a relationship with the new love of my life and senior problem drinker, Doyle Flannigan. I think what attracted him to me was the fact that I'm not plastic and have a pulse, though I don’t mean to be presumptuous. 

I was born in Nowhere, Kansas to two lovely stalks of wheat and was legally believed to be a ghost until 2006 when researchers discovered I was indeed a person, just extremely unremarkable. I’m mistaken for a trashcan with a blonde wig attached at least twice a day and on a good day as a patch of dying grass. Weird flex, but I am the only person not employed at CVS who knows where everything is as I am continuously mistaken as an employee. Even the staff will ask me to work the register or to mop up the bathroom. It’s our little joke, except they don’t remember me. 

I knew Doyle was the one for me when I first saw him. He was wearing board shorts and sandals even though it was the dead of winter (to show that he’s a real man!) whilst sporting a blonde rat-stache. He stared down every other girl under 100lbs in the vicinity until they were visibly uncomfortable… and me! 

Due to my transparent nature, every weekend I would unknowingly lie down in the doorway of his frat, blending in with the sticky, coke-covered wooden floor, hoping to catch a live one. Patience is a virtue and I can honestly say waiting for large, intoxicated white boys to fall over my limp, unmoving body for the last two years has totally paid off. It was fate that night I was tripped over by a nauseous and unsteady Doyle. He didn’t actually notice me the first couple of times, so I had to keep moving and lying down in front of where I anticipated him going. This was difficult as I am very bad at math.  

Sometimes Doyle forgets that I’m under him, so I’ve started setting reminders on his phone so that he won’t accidentally suffocate me to death. I also make sure to set off a strobe light every few minutes just to keep him conscious of the fact that I still exist. He says we’ll probably get married. I don’t even care he gave me mono. 

© 2019