When I was eighteen or nineteen I was pretty “wild” (omg Alexis Niers <3), and by that I mean I went out underage maybe three night a week using my sisters ID. I used to go to this amazing bar called Tender Trap in Williamsburg where there was a mix of beautiful women and men. It was pretty raunchy at times but it was always, ALWAYS a fabulous time. The bar was super narrow so you were almost forced to get close to people you didn’t mind getting close to but maybe you did a little because everyone there was absolutely gorgeous. Throwback jams, go-go dancers, and cheap drinks were always in full effect. Anyway, so I was casually sitting with my friends away from the bar obviously minding my own business, in hopes that some hot babe would come up to me and ask to buy me a drink, which I would then deny because I hate when people buy me drinks (usually, okay, fine. I don’t hate it but I like to be an independent women and sometimes a $6 rum and coke turns into feeling obligated to be bffs for the night with the person who just bought me a drink, so I try not to be about that).
Carrying on, this guy, the most beautiful guy, ever (some would say out of my league, fuck that) comes up to me and says “Hey, what’s up? I’m _______”. He was maybe 6’3, had blue eyes, blonde hair, a nice full beard, and dressed like every other boy that makes me nervous in New York. Two minutes into the conversation I realized this guy was a complete fuck, and I mean that in the worst way possible. He kept saying “I really like your aesthetic. Has anyone ever told you that before? Do you know what that means? I love your aesthetic.” He said in this, now come to think of it, Igloo Australia accent. It was so bizarre. He then grabbed my face and made out with me. I went with it then walked away without saying bye because he was such douche lord with the brain capacity of a crumb. He was the definition of “thank god your pretty”.
Long story short (shut up), I went outside then went back into the bar he waited for me, kissed me like he was my boyfriend of four years, told me he liked my aesthetic a few more times (as if that was so impressive the first time around) starred at me across the bar for twenty more minutes, then finally left.
The only reason I'm telling this story is because I've been hearing the word "aesthetic" thrown around so often lately. I will always hate the word aesthetic because of him. He ruined it forever. So dear everyone on the Internet, for me, stop saying that word. Please.
Long story short (shut up), I went outside then went back into the bar he waited for me, kissed me like he was my boyfriend of four years, told me he liked my aesthetic a few more times (as if that was so impressive the first time around) starred at me across the bar for twenty more minutes, then finally left.
The only reason I'm telling this story is because I've been hearing the word "aesthetic" thrown around so often lately. I will always hate the word aesthetic because of him. He ruined it forever. So dear everyone on the Internet, for me, stop saying that word. Please.
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