Follow-Up to the Text
As soon as I got that text, I ran as fast as I could to my car, and sped to Jen’s apartment. Alas, I didn’t make it there by eleven and she didn’t even bother to answer the door. I banged against the door and yelled for her not to send the photo, but it was too late. I heard the sound my phone makes for a new text message and, to my horror, there was the photo of my tiny penis, along with a message saying, “Hey everyone, check out the dick of some loser I met recently. Isn’t it tiny? By the way, his name is Ryan Martin and here’s his phone number…” And she actually included my own phone number. I knew that my life was ruined.
