Tell Me It's Real (At First Sight #1)

by T.J. Klune

I’ll probably call you a bitch behind your back.

When that much of your body has fallen because of gravity and you’re still wearing clothes, I can only imagine what your balls will look like hanging down by your ankles.

I briefly considered getting a cat, but then decided against it because I didn’t want to be one of those people.

I told her I was the only person in the world who had a grandmother who made out with her cat and smelled like fish while doing so. My grandmother wondered aloud if that made her a lesbian.

I just needed a dog to live with me and my menstrual ghost. She must have thought the phrase menstrual ghost was somehow referring to me because she asked if I was pre-op or post-op transgender.

“After all,” she said, laughing, “we women have to stick together, even if one of us has an artificially constructed penis now. Girl power!”

I can say with no reservations that Helena is a whore.

there was a moderately large lesbian with a mustache blocking part of my view. Move your labianical ass! I wanted to scream at her,

Take my fictitious eggs! I wanted to bellow at him. I will carry all your babies to full term!

If he even can spell quarantined. He might be hot, but he’s probably dumber than a box of rocks covered in cocaine.

“Eric’s ass is so loose it sounds like wind blowing over a cave entrance when he walks.”

“He’s a big fat slut,”

“You were just sad and pathetic and just sat there.

Charlie grabbed my arm. “Oh no, you don’t,” he growled at me in the deep, manly man voice of his.

they grabbed me by the arms. I gave a very unmanly squawk as I was pulled down the stairs, Charlie calling after me that I’d better be a good boy or I’d answer to him later.

It’d probably be like expecting a beautiful butterfly to emerge from a cocoon, only to have it actually become a mentally disabled giraffe with eczema.”

I was now thirty, in a fight with my best friend, and had probably missed meeting the man who would undoubtedly be the love my life but was now probably waking up in Bear Dude’s bed, all because I was a gigantic vagina.

I decided right then and there that I would not want to be a prostitute. Besides, I still had all my teeth and I didn’t look good in fishnets.

“I don’t understand why you’re so quiet. Or so shy, for that matter.

Oh gross. Not this kind of conversation again. You’d swear there were three people on the phone with a uterus instead of one.

“He’s twenty-eight. Apparently not the sharpest tool in the shed, but he’s supposed to be sweet as all get-out, not to mention he looks as he does. Single, doesn’t appear to be too much of a slut.

Jesus, I’m such a fucking girl sometimes.

every piece of clothing I put on either made me look like an obese rhinoceros or a Vietnamese hooker. Sandy said he couldn’t quite see the Vietnamese hooker, but I assured him that I looked like my name was Pham Dao Lin and I worked at a brothel called the Lotus Flower where I offered hand jobs to men with rubber glove fetishes.

You don’t get to say no. Not now. Not ever again.”

“Vince kind of wore me down until I couldn’t say no anymore.”