Senior year, there was this new transfer student and he was *flame emojis*. Me and other girls in the drama class would always gossip about how good looking he was, like some Greek statue or something. Some of the girls thought he looked like Zac Effron, Personally, I think he kinda looks like Dacre Montgomery if I’m being honest.

So somewhere between these two actors, except like 6’4”.

He was generally referred to as “Hot Guy”, because of course. Anyways, when Hot Guy made the school play I was really surprised. I honestly hadn’t ever heard him so much as sneeze so I couldn’t imagine him on stage shouting lines with some booming voice. Well nonetheless, Hot Guy was in the cast and I was in the cast.

The play was See How They Run, which if you aren’t familiar, is a “six-door comedy”. In other words there are lots of people running in and out, mistaken identities, twists and all the shenanigans you could ever hope for.

So because of the loony nature of the play, almost every single actor had at least ONE costume change. And in my high school, all of the non-musical plays were shooed out of the auditorium and crammed into a smaller theater room. Our backstage was not big enough for like separate dressing rooms, so we just had one trifold panel in the corner.

And also because the backstage was a tiny little area, we basically had to find a square inch to sit in and wait for our cues.

Well, one performance, I was having a problem… an underwear problem. Like I don’t even know what brand or type I was wearing but whatever it was IT SUCKED. I was riding the train into wedgie central every time I so much as BREATHED. I needed to take care of this uncomfortable situation stat. And this kind of situation could only be taken care of in the most discreet way… if you be picking up what I be laying down…

I was like, HEY. Here is a gleamingly, brilliant idea. I’ll just slip behind the trifold and take care of this cotton mess of a thing… I’m sure you’ve already guessed where I’m going with this. I don’t know what I was thinking. Actually, yes I do, I wasn’t thinking at all. There were so many kids going in and out of the changing area, it would have been a miracle to not have caught someone back there.

Well, I did. I straight up WALKED IN ON SOMEBODY. And not just anybody, oh no. It was Hot Guy. HOT GUY. I just waltzed back there while FREAKING HOT GUY was in the middle of a quick change.

Any second, sooner or later, would have been better. But he was at his most undressed point at the time of the walk in. Yup. Nothin’ but a tight pair of boxer briefs. (I just had to stop typing there to facepalm.) Like effing BURNED into my memory, the jingling sound of his belt as he desperately tried to cover himself back up and whisper-yelling, “Hey, hey, hey!” Ohhhhhhh my gosh. I think I said sorry like a hundred times in thirty seconds. A twenty-one-gun salute of apologizes as I RAN AWAY.

Walking in on anyone would have sucked. But walking in on hot guy was THE FREAKING BLUSHIEST WORST THING EVER. I couldn’t even look him in the face for a long time. People actually believed that I had walked in on him on purpose. !!!

 

Like as IF I had actually planned out the moment that hot guy was going to be taking his pants off and just whoopsie daisy, lookie there, looks like I’ve accidentally gotten an eye full, oh darn. Even if I was interested in him at the time, like how would that creepy icebreaker even benefit me? “Hey, remember me? I’m the socially-demented girl who walked in on you almost naked. Here’s my number.” AND I COULDN’T even explain or defend myself, because SORRY I actually was just going back there to PICK SOME PANTIES OUT OF MY BUTT, OKAY!

Then again… I did end up dating Hot Guy for a couple of years… so I guess the whole thing wasn’t totally scarring.