That’s not your boyfriend.

  Hi again!
I hadn’t initially planned on writing today, but I was witness to some serious shenanigans going down in the hallway- so naturally I’m going to write about it, embellish heavily, add a few of my own details and publish it on the Internet. 

So here’s the story: I saw some serious boyfriend snatching! Of course this happens all the time, and I thought nothing of it until I saw it happen again, and again and again. By the third time around I knew Thotty Thursday had arrived. 

Don’t get me wrong, I hate being one of those people who just assumes that someone is flirting because they’re speaking to the opposite gender. But god damn- these incidents were more than a few harmless hair flips. I swear, the girl in incident number three was two eyelash flutters away from blinding herself. (Currently unsure if one can actually blind themselves via fluttering their eyelashes- but you get what I’m saying) I knew as soon as she put her hand on his arm for the fourth time in a 30 second interval that this girl was going in for the scoop. But you can’t re-scoop ice cream, not unless it’s been put back in its container. But this boy was securely fastened to a cone, and totally not eligible for the type of scooping this girl was trying to do. 

You’re probably wondering by now who was trying to scoop who and when I’m gonna get to the toe stepping and secret spilling I’ve previously promised you. Be patient. I’m getting there!

So the first boy snatching I saw was in the 140’s hallway. It was the beginning of second period. Far enough in to the period that the hallways were mostly clear, but not so far in that I had decided whether or not I should go to class. I had just collected my flour-child from my mother, who had to drop him off to ensure that I didn’t fail Teen Pep. (I left him at home by accident. Yeah, yeah, I’m a bad mother- bite me) I’m strolling towards my AP World class, having mild intention to go, when I see, clear as day, a noutorious blonde flirting it up with a certain athlete who shall remain nameless. Wanting to spy on them, I hid behind the corner immediately.

And boy, what did I see? Two “innocent” touches short of full out intercourse- that’s what. I could barely suppress my giggles when I realized that it didn’t matter if I laughed- the blonde’s giggling definitely drowned out my own. 

Boy snatcher #2 wasn’t even being inconspicuous. The shamelessness of some people- I love it. Even better? He wasn’t even snatching a boy. That’s right, it was a girl snatcher. For a moment I thought he was doing some type of independent study experiment:”How Many Hugs Does It Take To Get A Girl To Dump Her Boyfriend.” Then I realized he was just partaking in Thotty Thursday, which spiked my interest even more. I swear to god, the guy hugged this girl every time she took a breath. Even better? She was complaining about her boyfriend. He did a great job of giving her advice on her relationship, I heard the whole thing. So transparent. Like a piece of frickin plexiglass. La-la-laaaave it.

Boy snatcher #3 needs to stop. Just stop. This is not an event contained solely to Thursdays for #3- it’s like a sport that never goes out of season for her. This girl is relentless, and good enough at what she does to cause my dear friend stress over it. So rude. So inconsiderate. We get it #3, you guys had a thing, like once, like in the Jurassic era. It’s ancient history! Stop bringing it up! Like- what’s your deal? At risk of sounding hypocritical- move on. Honestly, because if you don’t, my dodgeball team is going to be pathetic, having one of our star players wondering if you’re going to be climbing her boyf like a tree on the bleachers in front of everyone. We know you’re shameless like that. 

That’s the extent of my observations for today. But boyfriends and girlfriends beware- there are snatchers on the loose. And if you’re a bystander, remember sometimes it’s it’s necessary to lend a friendly reminder: “Hey, that’s not your boyfriend!” Trust me- it works like magic.

Hope these deets were juicy enough for you. And if you have an inkling that you know who’s starring in one of these stories of mine, don’t ask me to confirm or deny. But if the shoe fits…

Until next time,

Jamaica ☆

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