Janey Smith by Meghan Lamb

                Meghan Lamb discusses her deep relationship with Janey Smith. I have never met either person IRL. Nor do I think I ever will. That’s how the internet works. One day you’re laughing at their story. The next day you’re laughing at some other story of theirs. And you never meet them. Wish I could visit people from the internet; you know, avoid paying rent, drink a couple of Kombuchas and borrow their pants.

                That’s where this story begins. Meghan has a pair of pants that she wants to give away. Janey asks for them, complete with Meghan’s yeasty smell (her words, not mine). Meghan does yeasty smell things like walk around, sit in front of a computer typing words, checking Facebook, napping, exercising, and eating a healthy bowl of Raisin Bran to start her day. And in the end she never sends Janey the pants, despite the extraordinary kindness Janey has shown her. 

                Meghan admits she lies. I am not surprised. I sometimes lie to people online but only little lies, like how I’m not totally broke even though I am, or how much sleep I get even though I don’t get any sleep. She looks through Janey’s Facebook photos. Eventually she ends up in Janey’s neck of the woods. Janey got her pants. Meghan wants to know. In order to do so Meghan must dress appropriately to discover the shocking truth. Would Janey like her? Would Meghan trust anyone ever again when they said they had her pants? 

                For some reason Meghan pays for a cab. She doesn’t want to be late. But still cabs are really expensive. I walk everywhere via the soup out of a can lifestyle. Somebody my poor act will pay off when I find a $20 on the ground. Before Meghan gets to the party she drinks at a local bar. She drinks enough to get her pee smelling like strawberry yogurt. Thank you Meghan for ruining my favorite flavor of yogurt now I can never eat it without thinking about urine. 

                Janey and Meghan flirt at the party. I am happy. Glad to hear Janey has big beautiful dark eyes. Those are the best eyes. I feel they are really emphatic eyes. Emphatic eyes are my favorite eyes because I always need a little empathy in my life. Wish Billy Joel was a woman. I would like Billy Joel if he was a woman, or at least dislike the music a little less. 

                There are some zits chilling on Meghan’s shoulder. Janey wants to pop them. Meghan doesn’t let her, saying ‘that’s fucking gross’. I feel bad for Janey. Parties don’t pop until zits do. Both of them go outside and say some tender, sweet stuff. Of course due to the extreme saccharine nature of their conversation Meghan blacks out. 

                I like this story. Meghan and Janey are both of my Facebook friends. Glad to hear whenever online personalities meet IRL.