So, Nat Wolff – I’m not sure you remember this (actually, I’m very sure you don’t remember this because we were like twelve), but seven years ago at the Kids' Choice Awards we met right after the Justin Timberlake epic slime performance. I was like a little butt hurt about not getting slimed for the 4th year in a row and was casually mentioning it to one of my best friends as we tried to get close to the stage to at least touch some of the green stuff. You, you lucky duck, did get slimed and were celebrating with your friends.
Nat, I don’t know if you heard me lamenting that I’d always wanted to be slimed or maybe your friends dared you or maybe you just were on a sugar high from pixie sticks. Either way, we became intimately acquainted real fast.
For those of you who’ve never felt slime, it’s basically a liquidy mush of water, green-food coloring, shampoo that has the consistency of Cream of Wheat.
Luckily the odd consistency lead to difficulty in hand to clothing transfer. As I’m sure you’re aware being a Nickelodeon alumnus, Nat, that to get the maximum amount of slime on you – you’ve got to be sprayed. Even then, it’s pretty easy to wash out (or so I’m told).
And what do you do after a complete stranger you've seen on TV uses your shirt as a human towel? I mean it could be the start of a beautiful friendship. Or it could also be the start to a rumble that's bigger than the opening scene of "West Side Story." Neither happened, I just kind of stood a little shocked, a little annoyed, but mostly confused, while you and your friends continued your celebrations and ran off.
Don’t worry Nat; it didn’t stain my shirt even in the moment. You just left behind a clearish, mucus-like shape at the hem of my shirt that came out really easily in the wash the next. But, quite honestly I didn’t even notice it for the rest of the night.
Even though you didn’t stain my shirt Nat, I still held a grudge. Why? Because it’s very rude to wipe your hands on someone’s shirt that you don’t know. It’s one thing for me to wipe my hands after playing in the mud on my dad’s shirt – it’s another thing entirely to wipe your hands on a middle school girl’s oversized t-shirt as you walk by.
Just as quickly as we became acquainted Nat, you disappeared. And I held a grudge, pretty much for the rest of middle school. How could you, how could you just waltz up and use me as a human towel? At the time, I thought it was because you were rude and letting fame go to your head. I realize now, however, that it could have been for any number of reasons. I also realize you were also a middle school boy and middle school boys are general awful human beings. But, as you know middle school boys grow out of their overall unpleasantness.
So, when I saw you in the trailer for "Paper Towns," which by the way was great, I decided I would forgive you. After all, I did get my wish of being slimed -- just not in the way I had anticipated. And, I’m sure in the last seven years you’ve matured and probably stick to wiping your hands on towels and the back of your jeans like the rest of us. Here’s my olive branch, Nat. Hit me up for coffee, I promise I won’t wipe latte foam or crumbs on your shirt.