November 2019:
Hi! My name is Dylan, I am 16 years old, and I live in New York City. This happened to me just 2 weeks ago, and boy, it is still imprinted on my mind due to how awkward, crazy and I even dare to say life-threatening it was. My biggest quality? I always take my time to help others. When a little child’s ice cream cone melts, I purchase him a new one. If there is a kitten stuck on a tree, I climb the tree to get it down and then I go searching for his owner all through town. I always rewarded for my good deeds, but I expect nothing back. And that time I am about to tell you about that is particularly true, because things took a turn they never should have taken. And to think how a small action can turn such a big turn.
I was walking through Brooklyn Heights, one of the most crowded neighborhoods in the city, and I noticed a frail old lady who was struggling to carry her groceries and to even put a foot outside of the sidewalk. The traffic was very intense, and I was worried she would end up squished on the floor. My instincts activated; I spring towards action and asked to carry the groceries for her, and then with my other hand I helped her get to the other side safely.
The old lady told me, “Bless you, young man. Bless you.” She shook my hand in gratitude. “I feel so lucky the world still has nice and courteous people like you.” I grinned bashfully at that comment as the lady got out a couple coins from her purse. “Here.” But I refused to accept it. “I did it out of kindness, I do not need money,” I said humbly. She understood and put the coins back in her purse before we both waved farewell. “Thanks again, young man!” “A pleasure. Stay safe!”
I grinned proudly at myself for one more good deed. And that moment, things transitioned into a total mess. As I turned back to return to my house, I could notice that, blocking my path, was a tall swarthy girl with glasses, a sailor shirt, and Nordstrom boots, around the same age as me, who was holding her cellphone up to the same height as my face. And she just got closer and closer, until the rainbow kitty sticker was poking my nose and looking me straight in the eyes. I tried to get away, but the girl just followed me everywhere I went, recording my every move. Then, this guy who looked like LeBron, but way shorter, appeared. I was quick to conclude he was the girl’s father. “Aaliyah”, he said with a thick, booming voice. “Quit flirting with that boy, time to go home.” Without saying a word or stopping the recording, Aaliyah waved goodbye enthusiastically. I waved back half-heartedly, as I was weirded out and uncomfortable with the entire thing.
The next day, while surfing through YouTube, I stumbled upon a channel owned by someone named “LeeleeExplorer04”. The description of the channel said, “16-year-old teenager, love to travel the world with my friends, be on the lookout for new adventures.” Her videos showed her travelling the world and taking pictures in front of various landmarks, such as the Eiffel Tower and the Disneyland castle, while holding and petting her grumpy pet Himalayan cat. That was cool, but I experienced a déjá vu. The girl in the videos looked familiar, like I had only seen her yesterday. And boy, was I right. Her latest video had just been uploaded just 10 minutes ago, and when I clicked on it, boy, was I shocked. It was none other than me yesterday helping the old lady cross the road, and the whole exchange with her, as my face got closer to the shot and I heard that booming voice. And then, it all hit like a boxing glove: “LeeleeExplorer04” was actually the Aaliyah who recorded me yesterday, and she uploaded it to YouTube without my consent! But that was not the worst part.
I checked into the comment section (5 minutes and already over 200 commentaries). The uppermost were from the girls in Aaliyah’s friend circle, who commented things such as, “What a gentleman!” “I want him as my boyfriend!” “I want him as my husband!” “WHERE DO YOU LIVE?!” Feeling uncomfortable, I quickly shut my laptop. I went upstairs to shower and shave, and hopefully the hot water will get that out of my mind. But the nightmare had just begun.
The next day, I went to do the groceries, and while the guys and adults minded their own business, all the girls stopped their shopping carts to look right at me. I started to sweat knowing I was the center of attention, and not in a desired way. Every aisle I went to, all the girls would whisper that I was cute, whistle at me, take pictures of me with their cellphones, blow me kisses, and even toss me papers with their numbers and addresses.
I could even swear I saw hearts forming in their eyes. This was insane! I helped an old lady with an act of generosity expecting nothing in return, and now all these girls who do not even know my name or where I live were treating me like I was Ryan Gosling! And the worst part is, I DO have a girlfriend, a beautiful French-Canadian called Danielle, who was very possessive towards me. How would she react to this? I did not feel like staying at that supermarket for 10 more minutes. Not even 5. So, I rushed through the list, a nervous wreck, and finally went to the checkout, hoping that would be the end of it. But that was where the worst part of my experience happened.
While the checkout lady determined the price of my stuff, I started to feel a lot of footsteps walking in my direction. They stopped after 10 seconds, and I felt like a lot of eyes were on me. Indeed, like 90 eyes were on me. Girls, girls everywhere! Aaliyah and her friends and many others. I was surrounded by the smell of cherry lipstick, woolen clothing, and Calvin Klein Euphoria. It was overwhelming, and it would have been pleasant if not for the awkwardness of the moment. One of them started to clap, then more joined her, and in less than 5 seconds, it was Beatlemania all over again. Gorgeous but crazy chicks screamed, whistled, and fainted in my arms. “MY HERO!” one of them shouted. “MARRY ME!” another one hollered. This scene attracted the attention of the entire supermarket.
“He is mine!” “No, he is mine!” “Why, you…” the girls started to punch each other on their faces before one of them started to pull my vest. About five more followed. “Please stop, you’ll rip it!” I begged. But they did not listen, and in a couple seconds, they ripped my best vest in half. They also took away my scarf. They continued to fight for me. One of them, a nerdy redhead with freckles, glasses, a white woolen sweater, and Mary Janes, pulled me close, and…kissed me straight on the lips, leaving a HUGE mark of strawberry lipstick on my face. ‘That’s it! I am dead! Danielle will kill me, but not if these lunatics kill me first!’
I immediately dropped my groceries and started to run for my life, as the girls followed me to the outside of the store. They cornered my car and started to take pictures with their phones like paparazzies surrounding the President’s limo. I started to drive away but the same girl who kissed me opened the co-pilot door and entered, as the others yelled in protest.
“Finally! You are mine, Dylan!” she shouted.
“How do you even know my name?!” For a minute I considered going back to reclaim my scarf, but it was not worth the risk. I can always buy another one. I turned my car around the block, and we stopped at a traffic light. I pulled out my cellphone and texted Danielle about how that girl kissed me and that now she was sitting next to me at my car. And as I expected, she was not happy at all about it. She told me she was driving to my house and we would talk there. I did not like her tone. ‘I am dead.’ The traffic light turned to green, and as I continued my drive home, this girl kept asking, “Kiss me again, Dylan! Kiss me again!” She showed me her laptop, the screen had anime-style versions of both of us and the caption below read, “DYLAN X RUBY. A match made in heaven.” I gulped and tugged my shirt collar. This was getting worse every passing second!
After 15 minutes of enduring this torture, I arrived home. Danielle’s car was parked outside too.
“What should our crush name be? Rubylan? Dyluby? Or maybe mix them: Rudylanuby!” I covered my ears. Ruby had not stopped talking ever since we left the store! She puckered her lips ready to kiss me again, but then I heard another female voice, with a marked accent. “Don’t even think about it, honey!” It was Danielle, and she was furious!
“He has a girlfriend already.”
“Danielle!” I sighed in relief. She pulled me close and inspected my face. “Show me what that lourdaude made with her lips! Show me!”
I pointed to the mark next to my lips. Danielle, furious, grabbed Ruby by the arm and pulled her out of my car. “Listen, airhead! You will not get close to my boyfriend ever again! Do you get it?!” Ruby nodded, genuinely intimidated by Danielle, who towered 5 inches above her. “Now go!” Danielle loosened her grip on Ruby, and she went away.
Then Danielle turned to me, arms crossed, her toe tip went up and down repeatedly. I chuckled nervously, but I knew there was no way out of this. “Explain yourself. NOW!”
I explained everything to her, and Danielle told me to go upstairs, brush my teeth, change my clothes, and wash away that Ruby lipstick mark. I went upstairs and I did just that and then we reaffirmed our love for each other with an authentic kiss. I swear, I would have enjoyed the strawberry taste in my lips, had it not been completely insane.
Thankfully, after that, I never got into a rundown with crazy girls ever again.
SVD copyright 2021
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