Last week I went shopping with my mother, and I ended up with a bunch of cool t-shirts and tops. I was so happy I could've cut my toes and it wouldn't have hurt.

With a huge smile and radiating vibes on my side (shopping is like heroin, it makes sure your hormones go nuts and you have butterflies in your stomach) we went to McD's to relax a little bit from the enormous effort we put into spending money. Indeed, I hadn't felt that good in a long time.

I'm waiting in line to take my order, observing all the freaks around me- teenagers, mostly- and families with more than 300 children - when I spot THE guy. Perfect guy. I think I actually drooled. A big grin appeared on my face. He was way beyond my league, but that didn't make me enjoy my eye candy pleasure any less. This doesn't happen often to me when I see men- usually, I'm rather attracted to women - but that dude? He had it all. A bit of Dermot Mulroney, a little bit of Orlando Bloom, and also a little bit of Keira Knightley. No wait, I lied- I just wanted my male visitors to profit, too.

Soon he leaves and it's me and my mother again. On our way back to the subway station I ask her to check out one last store with me. I immediately fell in love with a pair of Vans that made me happier than anything else I ever owned before (which is also a lie. I am always happier than I've ever been before when I go shopping). When my mother lets me buy them, I take a chance and ask her if she's got 200 bucks spare to buy me an Ipod as well, but that obviously didn't work. She went downstairs to the subway station while I waited in line to pay. I pass the changing cubicle, and guess who almost knocks me out? Perfect Guy. There he stands, in front of me, drool is dripping out of my mouth, and he smiles the most beautiful smile I've ever seen and says, "hey, hold on a second", and I'm like "whahahahamee?". I force myself to stay calm and keep myself from fainting.

"Can you please tell me if these clothes are good on me?"

Big flashy smile. I want to scream YES, YES, they're PERFECT, YOU are perfect, but I stay sensible.

"Oh, yeah, they're nice."

I grin, I'm already giddy enough, I don't want to play games, TAKE ME.

"You have some nice shoes there, too. Can you wait a second and advise me about my other stuff as well?"

Articulated words, awesome eyes, shoulders as wide as the equator, oh I'd have waited til Judgement Day. He goes back into the cubicle, I wait outside, impatiently because my mom's going to be pissed if I let us miss the train. He steps out again, in bathing shorts and a nice t-shirt.

"So, how about these things?"

Roar.

"Sure, they're good. Perfect. Haha, yes, haha--"

"Thanks for your help. Look, will you wait another second?"

I'm thinking, how much stuff is this guy going to buy, but when he steps out he's dressed in his own clothes, grins again, hands me a piece of paper and says, "Thanks for your advice. Your honesty was very refreshing- " Well, yeah, it was indeed honest but did he flash a look into the mirror recently? - "and I want to thank you for your help. Just call me and I'll invite you... cup of coffee, or something." He turns red as a tomatoe (cute!) and leaves.

I spent a week being high on that incident. A guy, so classy, so cool, so stylish, so sexy- wants ME to call HIM? I made up all kind of things why that would be- maybe he's sick and needs my kidney? Maybe he's gay and just needs a fag hag? Maybe, possibly he's a retard?

On Saturday, I call him up. His name is Yee (yeah, don't ask me), he is 19 years old, lives not far away from here and is the sweetest guy ever.

"How about lunch?" he asks.

"Sure thing!"

"Do you like Sushi?"

"Will you marry me?" I actually splurted that out, and I really wanted to hang myself, but he just laughed and said "Well, let's take it slow there."

We decided on Tuesday, enough time to get mentally prepared. Do you know how cruel it is to go on a date with such a good looking guy? You want to be equal, but you know you're NEVER going to make it there.

On Monday I was so tense I couldn't walk properly. I wanted to get drunk and just knocked the fuck out, break my leg or jump from a cliff- that nervous. At 7 PM I get a call on my cell, and number ID tells me it's him. "Shit, he's going to cancel. Yeah, it was too good to be true."

I answer, but surprisingly enough, a very annoying female voice is on the other end.

"Hellooooo (imagine Janice, Chandler's ex-girlfriend)? Who iiiiis iiiit?"

"Uh, my name's Sara, and who are you?"

"Weeeeelll, that is none of youuuuur busineeeess. I want to knoooow what you dooo with my booooyfrieeeeend."

"I'm doing nothing with your boyfriend. Who the fuck is your boyfriend? What do you want from me?"

"Weeeelll, I sawww that heee called youuuu, and I muuuust telll youuuu, heeee is miiiiiine."

Things kind of get clear. That guy has a girlfriend. I guess she must be an amazing freak in the sheets, because there's no other excuse to go out with someone who has a voice like that.

"Yeah, I wasn't going to steal your guy. I helped him with something and he just wanted to invite me for a cup."

"Whaaaaaaaat, he is inviiiiiiting youuuuu?"

Before she even ended the sentence, a harsh male voice breaks out from the background, "Hey, that's my cell phone, who are you calling?", followed by a nerve-killing fight between the two.

Breathlessly, Perfect Guy answers the phone, "Sara? I'm sorry, I- I can't talk -- aAAAH - right now.. I think my girlfriend doesn't like -- ah, STOP IT- the idea of our lunch, I'm sorry, I'll caaaaa--" Beep.

See, and that is the reason why from now on, I'm totally sticking to girls.