Let's just say that I went to buy Fudgie Wudgee brownies from the nearby milk tea place with my hair in a messy bun, wearing a yellow mustard shirt, ratty sweat pants, my face unwashed, my nose oily, with un-pedicured feet peeking from my flip-flops, and on top of that I haven't showered.
So on my way to my condo, I saw a car pull-up in front of my building and I saw two chicos jalapenos step out. And I'm like:
And I FREAKED.
I ran like a motherfucker to the elevators.
Except the elevators were too slow so the two hotties managed to catch up. WHYYYY
I have this odd fear that one day I might discover a dead, mangled body in an elevator. Apparently being in the same elevator with two mucho caliente chicos while I look like trash is incredibly worse.
Them: blah blah blah blah blah blah
GOD. Excruciating two minutes of my life.
*Attempts to eat feelings with Fudgy Wudgee*