Bitch Face (A Game Of Pretend).

"You know what the problem is with you, Annah?" My friend Lola inquired a few months back. "You only like those 'bitch face' guys. I think what you need is a manly man! One with hair inside his ears and muscles in his eyes."

The above statement was so eloquently delivered to me out of left field once and I laughed it off and stored it away in the depths of my vodka-filled membrane without giving it a second thought.
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Let's pretend you knew a girl who was a blogger whose name started with an A and the thing she wanted most in this world was famosity and a book deal. Let's pretend said Girl -who is obviously just a fictional character for the purposes of this post- worked in an office at a unfulfilling desk job she marginally enjoys because it pays the bills.

Let's pretend there's a guy in the office who's totally hot and she initially crushed on (and blogged about) who looks like this minus the angry face:

Sometimes, Girl has caught the above gentleman looking at her but has ignored it because she's not one to pursue the opposite sex like an Italian construction worker would an unsuspecting American woman on holiday.

Enter Bitch Face.

For pretending's sake, let's say he's chubby. And slightly shorter than the girl in question. Let's pretend he's not interested in appearances. Nor does he care about laughing at inappropriate moments or chewing with his mouth open while it's still full.

Let's pretend that for reasons unbeknownst to her, Girl is smitten. So much so, that she can't recall the last time she felt like this.

(There's irony somewhere in all of this.)

Let's pretend a sort of silent friendship is struck between Girl and Bitch Face when he brings her a dish he cooked for lunch one day out of the blue. Girl is struck by this small gesture of modern day courtship and promises Bitch Face she will one day return the favor by cooking him something special.

Let's pretend one day, Girl realizes she hasn't seen Bitch Face in over two weeks and inquires with the Office Gossip about him.

"Oh, that guy? He left the company, Girl," says Office Gossip. "Yesterday was his last day."

 

Let's pretend Girl is shattered, and inevitably turns to her friends (and margaritas) to mope on a Tuesday night about the one that got away.

Female Friend: Maybe you should contact him on Facebook!

Girl: We're not friends on Facebook.

Female Friend: Well then add him!

Girl: Um... Isn't that a bit, stalkerish?

Female Friend: No, it's just Facebook. It's not like you're camping outside his house in a tent waiting for him to come out so you can pop out of the bushes and surprise him with donuts.

Girl: Who would do that?

Female Friend: Not me (looks away quickly and lights a cigarette).

Male Friend: Whatever you do, do NOT add him on Twitter. That's the pussiest move you could play.

Girl: Yikes. That's what I was planning on.

Male Friend: Negative. Just send him a Facebook message.

Girl: Are you sure? I feel like this is sort of ridiculous.

Male: Why ridiculous? I'd be stoked if a hot chick from work sent me a message on Facebook.

Girl: How about you guys write the message for me and I send it sometime next week, so as not to seem desperate.

Friends in unison: Okay!

Let's pretend the friends each gave their sample letters to Girl and asked her to choose the best option:

Letter #1 (written by girlfriends)

Letter #2 (written by guy friend)

Let's pretend Girl is confused.

Especially, when she's no longer trying to pretend.