Read on Twitter
does anyone want to hear my weird and anticlimactic Justin Timberlake story https://twitter.com/tkiramadden/status/1263926080299249664">https://twitter.com/tkiramadd...
Ok, here’s the scoop: in middle school I “met” “Justin Timberlake” in an AOL chat room. He was very secretive about his identity and only told me in the privacy of our private instant messages. We, of course, fell in AOL love.
Every night I’d quiz Justin on the facts of Justin to make sure he was, indeed, Justin. He got one question wrong, when I’d asked him what he sung on Star Search. When I confronted him about being wrong he said, “I dunno woman! I am just a country guy!!” I’ll never forget that
I loved being called “woman” so I let it fly. I was quietly dating a celebrity and that was cool. One problem: I’d have to leave for summer camp soon, with no AOL!
so we put our relationship on ice and I went off to my spoiled rich kid camp in New York. It was called camp TIMBERLAKE. I took it as a sign. Love!
This camp had a really weird thing going on and it’s this: they’d pay (or, I guess our parents paid???) big sums of money to get celebrities to come surprise us to “break color war” in dramatic ways. Helicopter landings, Tyra Banks in our fashion show, normal things like that
So, after missing my internet boyfriend for weeks, we had our camp talent show. A voice comes from the stage wings, and it’s GOOD. Who walks out? Obviously Justin Fucking Timberlake
You’re guessing correctly if you’ve guessed that, by now, I’ve bragged to all my bunk mates that I was in a long distance relationship with Justin, so of course everyone is like GO GET UR MAN! or whatever they said. We’re, like, 11. We get in line to meet Justin and take a pic
My heart is racing. Could this Justin in his cargo pants and baseball cap really be my boyfriend? We gather for our bunk picture. I say, Justin, is it you? What did you sing on Star Search? It’s me, QTPIE23321! waiting for a knowing wink or something
He gives me a look of straight up pity that can only be described as IMAGINE JUSTIN TIMBERLAKE LOOKING DOWN AT YOU WITH PITY and says “Smile for the camera, sweetie!” or some shit like that and the photos are snapped. I’m crushed.
I honestly don’t remember how I covered this up with my bunk mates, if I just dropped it or what. But I was PISSED AT MY INTERNET JUSTIN IMPERSONATOR BOYFRIEND. When I got home I went OFF, trying to trick him like “HOW WAS UR SUMMER DID YOU MISS ME?”
He was like “yuh” and I was like IT WASN’T YOU ASSHOLE!!!! Sending all the pics as “evidence” as I got my disposable cameras developed. He said, “You’d never love me for me!” and it was like a boring episode of Catfish. We never spoke again.
So that’s my anti-climatic story of meeting Justin Timberlake, a deleted chapter of my book because there were already “too many online predators,” and why I still fucking hate Justin.
also you are correct if you’re guessing that now it’ll be my mission to FIND THE PICS! He had a baby blue cap, I think a red shirt, wow those curls.
