Alright, this one hurts, but fuck it, I've been drinking.

So in high school, there was this girl who I was pretty much in love with. She had the most beautiful smile I had ever seen.

In high school, I was a fat ass loser. I was overweight, and not really outstanding in anything. Yet somehow, this amazing girl liked me back anyway, but I was always too much the coward to do anything about it.

So, I missed out for a few years. Then, finally, by the strangest of coincidences, I meet her on a pub crawl, years later in college. At this point, I'm a much different person. I've lost weight, become extremely popular, and very attractive. She's still as beautiful as I remember.

Now, I've come to this pub crawl with 4 friends. I pretty much ditch them, to spend all my time with this girl. This is it, the day of destiny, I figure. Except, not quite.

One by one, my friends all have some sort of insane problem, that would normally never come up, yet comes into full effect tonight, and I'm the only one that can help.

First, my friend gets hit with a rufie, or something similar, and is basically incapacitated. For whatever reason, I'm the one to notice, and I have to drag her across the street to the Boston Pizza to call her boyfriend to come get her home. Okay. Fine. Then my other friend is drunk and crying, and the bouncers wont let her back in, so I need to get her to a cab an on her way back home. No big deal.

I come back inside. Quick stop in the restroom, I figure. There's my buddy, basically in the middle of a fight with 4 guys. I don't know what I did or what I said to avoid more conflict, but I get him away from that mess, and ...

you know what, I'm sorry. I'm just going to stop here. This shit is hurting me more than I though to talk about. Have a good night,