Matt's iridescent, silver shirt was unbuttoned about halfway revealing his glistening, chiseled chest. With a casual flip of his wrist, he tucked his long, brown hair neatly behind his ear. Even from half way across the crowded bar I could clearly see his deep blue eyes and his perfectly formed lips.
He playfully bounced from the stage into a sea of beautiful young women, all vying for the attention of the lead singer. As though holding a number at the deli counter, I waited my turn. I nervously fidgeted with my hair. It was teased to the ideal height of about two inches so that my hair-sprayed, blonde curls would cascade perfectly around my heavily made up face. Thick mascara coated my eyelashes. Fire-engine red lipstick covered my trembling lips. My inexperienced hands had painted and crimped in a failed attempt to disguise my naive, juvenile appearance. At long last, Matt made his way through the crowd to me.
Matt Cutts - SMX Advanced 2012 Photos
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Crying child"Thanks for coming out. Great set, don't you think?" he said gleefully. Before I had a chance to respond, he was gone. I watched, dumbfounded, as he moved on to the next group of girls, flashing his million-dollar smile to whichever lucky lady caught his wandering eye. My mind raced, I wasn't just another one of his groupies, I was supposed to be his God-damned girlfriend.
Adolescent jealousy and too many Budweisers churned together in my stomach. I thought that I was going to be sick. All alone in the crowded bar, I watched as Matt flirted with a voluptuous, scantily clad blonde at the bar. I couldn't watch any more.
By the light of the flickering red neon beer sign, I started pushing my way through the crowd of chatty young college kids, toward the door. With every step,