onemorefortheroad:

When I was moving out of my house months ago, a bunch of other girls were in the process of moving in. I had had my fill of living with an ever-changing cast of strangers, and was moving the last of my stuff in order to get out before the girl who was replacing me got there.

As I was vacuuming my room and scrubbing the bathroom, one of the new girls pulled up to the house and started to move her stuff in. She was this tall, lanky artist who talked with a strange voice and packed entirely in laundry baskets. Girl had so many laundry baskets full of things. 

I finished collecting everything I could remember and moved the last of it to my car. After I had everything packed, I collected Jeff, who had been pacing outside of the house. 

“Whitney. I have to tell you something. I accidentally saw that girl’s vagina.”

“How did you do that?!”

She was wearing a jean skirt (to move in!) and evidently she had packed all of her underwear everywhere except on her person. She had leaned over to get something out of the depths of her car and had leaned so far that Jeff saw more than he expected.

…A week or so later, I went to collect a chair that I had left in the shed and some frozen foods from the freezer. The new girl, seemingly unaware that she had shown my boyfriend her naughties, proceeded to tell me about her cat and how he looked just like my cat. She insisted on finding him to show me. And guess what her cat’s name turned out to be?

Cooter.