Calm Down! Guy Who Horn-Honked Your Boob Wasn’t Flirting With You!


Honestly, you should have expected it. You put on those distressed jeans and crop top last weekend not because you wanted an Insta pic to show the girls from your high school that you’re ~thriving~, but rather so that a sweaty, drunk boy would follow you around all night, impeding your every attempt at making new friends and finally reaching out to cup your boob and give it a limp squeeze in a last-ditch effort to charm you.

“At one point during the party, they respectfully asked me to give them some space, which I took as a clear indication that they wanted me to force alcohol on them while they were trying to have a much needed heart-to-heart with their best friend in the corner,” said Dean Dubin, the guy who wonk-wonked your boob, while taking a Snap story of the seven cases of Rolling Rock he bought at Publix and captioning it “Tallanasty, am I right?”. “Sure they kept ignoring me, but they were naked under those clothes! In my few and unimpressive sexual experiences, that means they wanted a little piece of the Wubba Lubba Dean Dub. So I figured my best option was to subtly yell at them to take a shot every minute and pour my whiskey into their vodka lemonade without their consent.”  

“Who? Dean? What the heck? He was just trying to be friendly! It sucks that good guys like us always finish last. There was no need to be so mean to him,” stated Hunter Ambrose, while mass inviting all nine-hundred and twenty-three of his Facebook friends to the waltz of a girl he talked to once in middle school. “When they said they weren’t interested after he asked ‘Where’s your boyfriend?’ for the twenty-third time, it was just too far. He clearly wasn’t flirting with them.”

You were just overreacting. When you told Dean you were leaving and he forced you into a non-consensual hug, he certainly didn’t mean anything sexual by it, despite what his raging boner against your leg might have suggested. And when he reached out a clammy hand and honked your boob like a horn on a clown bike, he was just doing it platonically. Fucking duh!

The Eggplant FSU