Prompt: The Accidental (?) Boob Grab

Prompt: Tell us about a time someone accidentally grabbed your boobs.

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Okay. So there I was, walking down Bay Street, heading back to work after lunch. I was late, of course, because I had to pause to visit the LCBO on my way back. I was rushing like Usain Bolt to get back to my desk before my boss decides she prefers my desk to be empty, which caused me to dart in between the slowpokes. In front of me, a man was talking with a lady. They were so engrossed with their conversation that they were not in any hurry to get anywhere and clearly were in my way.

I rudely darted in front of the man so I could pass them at the light. The light was red. As I took a step forward, he took a step forward. Our bodies collided. Instinctively, his hand went up to pat my shoulder as he apologized. Accidentally, his hand landed riiiiight on my boob.

It was not a soft graze. It was a full on, palm flat against my breast. But it was totally accidental. Which is what made it so hilarious. Especially the look of horror on his face as he realized what he did.

The light turned green and I bolted forward. Both humiliated and amused.


Aimless — The Daily Post

Dating is hard. Filling out a dating profile is harder.

The blank text box taunts me. It also reflects me: blank.

Tell us about yourself. Hobbies, interests, activities.

The struggle is real. Who has time for hobbies? When I come home after the daily grind of work, I’m too tired to do anything. I pull shut the curtains, turn on Netflix, and lose myself in endless hours of contrived programming until I drift asleep. During the day I browse all the recipes on Tasty that look so easy to make, and I tell myself that this is it, this is the day I make myself an impressive One-Pot Chicken Fajita Pasta, or maybe give myself a little kick with some Buffalo Fried Calamari, and one day, my Instagram feed with definitely be drooling over my Cincinnati Chili Spaghetti.

But not tonight.

Tonight I’m doing this, filling out this dating profile that I only bought a membership for because it was half-priced on Groupon. Prompted by my bestie, who would get a double discount if she bought it along with my friend, I couldn’t say no. I need to get back into the dating game, I told myself. What happened with Justin was an isolated incident. It will never happen again. Not all men are like that. There has to be one man out there for me, someone who will click with me.

The prompts taunt me. Tell us about yourself. What are your dreams and aspirations?

My dreams and aspirations?

I type my response into the text field.

Aimless. I am aimless. If I had to describe myself in one word, it would be aimless. I have no direction. No hopes and aspirations. I did, once upon a time, but they got crushed. Now I wake up every morning and toil away at a job I hate, to pay for a condo I hate, and I’m trapped. Trapped in an endless cycle, with no exit to take to get out.

I re-read what I just wrote, and then delete it all. No, that’s not right. I’m not completely aimless.

I’m looking for someone. And something.

And I’ll never stop searching until I find my direction.



Or Perhaps

At work I received the RANDOMEST spam email ever.


From: cauliflower please

Subject: …enjoy!


banking on eating well…

or perhaps

the cauliflower will be devoured one flowerette per day…

We will be boiling the leaves and roots, and rediscovering all manner of wild veggies!


Okay now. Settle down, Mr. Cauliflower Spambot.

I get it that there’s been issues in the news lately about the soaring price of cauliflower. This e-mail probably has something to do with that.

Things I love about this e-mail:

  • poetic formatting
  • the title asking me to enjoy! As if I wouldn’t enjoy random vegetable poetry!
  • hilarious title (cauliflower, PLEASE)
  • dramatic pause of the second line (OR PERHAPS!!!)
  • random usage of ellipses
  • flowery language (devoured one flowerette per day…)
  • suggestive ending (rediscovering all manner of wild veggies!)

I’ve read this email/poem 10 times already today. I seriously can’t stop laughing. I actually printed it out and pinned it to my wall.

What does it even MEAN?!!?

It almost sounds like some kind of threat.

Maybe I’ve stumbled onto some kind of covert spy instructions.

My mission, if I chose to accept it, is to devour the cauliflower, boil the leaves and roots, and find out where the gold is buried.