He’s Too Sexy For His Shirt

In honor of ‘Throwback Thursday,’ I decided to share the details of my first date in college.

Here goes.

As a fledgling freshman at my University, I took full advantage of being free from the clutches of my strict parents and quickly took to a life of fraternity parties and Tuesday nights out equipped with jungle juice, beer kegs and the much needed delicious Sonic breakfast burritos circa three AM.

All these festivities accompanied by easy access to delicacies such as Chick-Fil-A and Pizza Hut included in my meal plan, I was well on my way to acquiring my freshman fifteen.

One evening at a rush event I was introduced to a short in stature yet substantially buff 21 year-old named Travis. One might say Travis was overcompensating for his height with the size of his muscles, but his face was surely easy on the eyes.

Travis was the president of his fraternity, and being the budding 18 year-old college student, I was simply flattered by his attention.

Later that week Travis reached out to me on my Nokia flip phone and invited me out for dinner at a fairly respectable restaurant considering he was an unemployed full-time student.

Though I enjoyed having all the junk food I was rarely served under my parent’s roof at my disposal, I was delighted by the idea of eating an actual nutritious meal as opposed to the Easy Mac and pepperoni Hot Pockets I had been consuming all week.

Two days later I put on my stylish jean skirt and was looking forward to being picked up for my first date sans my mom and dad embarrassing me at the front door.

Being that there was security to get into the dorms, Travis said he would call me when he was pulling up front in his car.

Alas, the call came through, and I grabbed my purse and flip flops and descended down to the elevator to meet my date.

I saw Travis sitting in his silver Chrysler Sebring patiently awaiting my arrival.

Travis opened the car door, and stood up with a beaming grin across his face…

…without his shirt.

Yes. He was shirtless.

With his chiseled pecs, six pack abs and sculpted lats, paired with his tight jeans and oversized belt buckle, he looked as if he just ended his shift at Chippendales…but not in a good way.

Travis reached for an embrace, to which I apprehensively reciprocated against his glistening hairless skin.

“So…where is your shirt?” I asked, slightly horrified on both of our behalves.

“Oh it was just so hot. Figured I would just put it on when we got there. Thought you might like a little eye candy as well,” he said with subtle wink.

The short ride to the restaurant was agonizingly long and awkward being that I was forced to hold a somewhat civilized conversation with a man who was half naked and undeniably flexing his biceps throughout the duration, not to mention his blatantly erect nipples.

I enjoyed my chicken marsala, a few glasses of wine (that actually wasn’t Franzia) along with some mediocre conversation, and soon after the date came to an end.

Any future texts from Travis went unanswered, and I never saw him, or his nipples again.

 

 

 

 

 

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