Dear Cute Indian Guy,

We danced together on Friday night and, unlike 99.7% of the men who frequent Tom Tom, you actually seemed like a nice guy and not a horny frat boy. You seemed interested in what I had to say AND you asked for my number (score!)- so my reaction was completely inexplicable. Why did I lie and tell you that my guy friend across the bar was my boyfriend? I don't know. Apparently the idea that a guy might be interested in me sends my brain into panic mode and transforms the guy-I've-known-since-I-was-five-and-could-never-possibly-date-because-he-is-like-a-brother-to-me
into my boyfriend.

That was not okay,
Shameless

PS. I haven't decided if I'm disgusted or turned on by the fact that after I told you I was taken you said goodbye by shaking my hand AND grabbing my ass as I walked away.