When I was in my first year of college, I chatted back and forth with a boy in San Marcos Texas that I met in a chatroom. In the late 90's, not many people posted pictures online unless they had access to scanners or digital cameras which cost like, 87 bazillion dollars back then.[Also, we had a little thing called dial up. How did we deal with that? Ack!] Anyway, this boy and I chatted a lot late at night and I thought he was awesome, but I had yet to see a picture of him. After a couple months of talking back and forth, he asked me for my address and so that he could send me a picture of himself. [if you are my mother, shop reading here. You will have a heart attack worrying about my personal safety of 13 years ago if you continue.]
So, of course I sent him my address.
A week letter, an letter arrived from my online friend. I opened the envelope slowly, expecting a Ricky Martin look-alike to reveal himself to me. I know. Remember - it was 1998. We were all Livin La Vida Loca that year.
Needless to say, I did not pull Ricky Martin from that envelope that day.
I am ashamed to say that I never chatted with that young man again.
Because he wasn't cute.
I have lived with the guilt of being a complete jackwagon for years.
Here's my vlog.
Dear Karma, please be kind. I am certainly no Ricky Martin.