The Long Con
I was in eighth grade and on the bus. A sixth grade girl that I hadn’t ever really noticed with messy, short blonde hair hands me a packet of 8 pages stapled together. Each page is literally full, front and back, of ‘I love you’ over and over again. It was kind of cute but horrifyingly creepy.
Flash forward to early college: I meet a hot blonde 18 year old, I learn her name and realize it’s the same girl. I ask if she knows who I am before I say my name, she says: “Of course I do, Blake. I love you.”
I leave and have done my best to avoid blondes since. Story credit: Reddit / blakezilla