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Published: February 08, 2012
Description: A story of how I was pranked by a Falcons cheerleader

"You were so funny tonight."

An attractive blonde told me that after one of my stand up performances. She was hot, but she had that crazy look in her eye like she's nuts. But it doesn't matter because she's super hot and that cancels everything out. So, I kept talking and asked her questions.

"What do you do?"

When I asked her, she got all shy and turned her head to the side and down, as if to say "I am cute and ashamed." I look at her friends who are with her,

"What? What is it?"

"She is a cheerleader for the Atlanta Falcons."

The first thing that came to my mind is that if I have sex with an Atlanta Falcons cheerleader, I can brag about it to all of my friends.

"So I'm bangin’ this chick, right? She's totally hot, and she's an Atlanta Falcons cheerleader, and then...uhh, and then...”

"And then what, Ben? What's the story?"

"That was the story. I was banging an Atlanta Falcons cheerleader. Now, bow down to my greatness."

As I was thinking these vain thoughts, she began talking to me about other things that she cared about. She started saying stuff about her job and how she loves doing what she does. I don't remember what the job was. Something about working for the electric company, maybe? God knows. God probably doesn't care, either.

Eventually, she stopped talking about her job at the newspaper company and I realized, “Oh shit. I'm supposed to say something here.”

The only questions that came to mind at the time were questions like, "Have you banged any of the players?" and "Are those boobs real?" and "Tell me more about what it's like to work for the sand paper company?"

So, I lost her. The conversation died and she slipped away somewhere into the midst of people. A little time passed, and I think she and her friends left. But earlier they suggested that we go out for more drinks. I went outside to see and I noticed them walking to their car.

"Hey you guys still wanna go to the bar?"

They looked at me like I'm weird for asking them that, and I thought in my head, “Why are these people acting like this is so weird? Didn't they just say they wanted to hang out?”

She said she would text me where they are going so I could type it into my GPS and meet up with them later.
I got a text from the girl a few minutes later.

"We are going to this place called Publix. It's on Peachtree Street."

“There is a bar called Publix?”

"Lol yeah"

There are Publixes in Atlanta, and there are Peachtree Streets. There are Peachtree Industrial Parkways, Peachtree Northeasts, Peachtree Northwests, Peachtree Boulevards, Peachtree Avenues, and most certainly Peachtree Streets that have Publixes on them.

But, in my new and exciting state of denial, I got in my car and punched “Publix on Peachtree Street” into my GPS. A list came up that was about five Publixes deep. There may have been more, that was only the first screen of Publixes. So, I drove anyway, and every time my GPS lead me to a Publix grocery store I was like,

"Oh, uhhh, yeah, that's a Publix."

After a few "That is also a Publix" moments, I parked my car and walked around to see if there was some sort of connector bar to Publix that was also called Publix. But there wasn't. It was just Publix.

I texted her and said that my GPS kept taking me to Publix, the grocery store. No response.

Days after the incident, I felt like maybe we made a misconnection. Then I realized that I'm in complete denial. And that's okay. Thanks to me, she felt some sort of gratification over the prank. I pleasured an Atlanta Falcons cheerleader.

I thought about why she felt ashamed to be a Falcons cheerleader. Maybe the better job for her is over at the paint company. Because as an Atlanta Falcons cheerleader, you have people like me who have extra incentive to sleep with you. I pretended to be interested about her job over at the sand paper company. I did not realize that she may really have a true love for sand paper.

Maybe I'll see her again someday. And then I will realize there is more to her than hotness and boredom. Maybe she'll tell me I'm funny again and we'll agree to meet for coffee. We'll decide to go to this cute little coffee shop over on Peachtree Street. It's called Kroger.