The noisy pants

Here i am, in the Harold B. Lee Library.  catching up on homework in my comfy (free) tshirt and my comfy (free) warm ups (free as in i stole them from jesse like 5 years ago. . .) and then it hits me. . . I need to use the rest room.  So I go (to the restroom) to go (to the restroom).  As I walk something troubling comes to my attention.  I have on a pair of noisy pants.  This is quite problematic.  People keep looking up as i pass.  They are saying, "Man that kid has on some noisy pants" and "there goes my train of thought, thanks a lot noisy pants guy!" and i'm just looking back at them like "sorry bro, these pants is comfy" and "hey, how you doin? (then i give them a taste of my best "blue steel" look and walk off like i didn't see them looking at me and my noisy pants)"

It's quite unfortunate.  I do not like to be the interrupter  but unfortunately that is me.  I got over it real fast (but due to my drinking problem* I had to make several noisy trips to the bathroom. . .i took different routes so as not to be bothersome to the same studious studiers every time)

and then this guy sits down at my table and and i'm like "dude, my table!" and he's like "shut up noisy pants" and then he gets up (apparently he too has a drinking problem*) and leaves his laptop just sitting there.  Like i'm supposed to watch it? what if someone steals it? i would feel terrible culpable.  fortunately, i will never know. I'm leaving. it's dinner time

Will you watch my stuff without me asking you to do so?

That is not a fair question?

I like your sweater. . .but i won't tell you

SO here i am.  Sitting in the library.  trying to muster up the courage to talk to that girl.  you know the one.   the one that is most likely completely unattainable.  she's got that stylish pink sweater on, beautiful long brown hair, and just enough tan to make you think "is she latina? no i don't think so."  my buddy glade says it's easy to just strike up a conversation with someone in the library.  MAYBE thats cuz girls come up to him, and they just stare at me like "why does that creeper keep glancing over at me. . .do i have something on my face? oh my gosh i do have something on my face. ew i gotta go to the bathroom to wash that off." and she subsequently gets up and leaves.  or thats what would happen if i was a creeper and kept glancing at her, but i'm not. so i pretend like i can't see her out of the corner of my eye, but i can. I think think that i see her glance up at me too, but i'm not sure.  That brings out the temptation. . .

Irrational part of the brain: DUDE she totally is checking you out

Rational part of the brain: Um, she is most definitely not checking you out, don't do anything stupid!

Irrational part: No way man, she was totally eye flirting with you, quick she's leaving, make up an excuse to leave too so you can start up a funny conversation on the way out, your sense of humor is your strong point.

Rational part: Pretend like you don't see her and her friend pack up their things and walk away.  It will save you embarrassment and pain.

Irrational: Ya, but then you'll end up an old man filled with regret waiting to die alone.

Rational: No you won't, thats just not normal.  If you were going to have talked to her you would have had to have had a legitimate excuse, and you didn't and now she's gone anyways so don't fret it!

Irrational: maybe if you leave now, you'll accidentally bump into her and be able to strike up a friendly conversation. . .

Rational: well you better get going then, but it better be a legit conversation, not, "hey i like your sweater wanna go out tomorrow?"

Irrational: deal.

"Tim are you talking to yourself on your blog?"

That is not a fair question?