sam & ella's

a unique take on life from some unique women

Your Imaginary Boyfriend: Ryan Lochte

Ryan Lochte

[Side Note: One of my favorite websites in the world, Jezebel, does an “Imaginary Boyfriend/ Girlfriend” series which is funny and awesome and will give you all the life you could ever want. Here’s a link  ( and if you don’t read it you are seriously dead to me. This is a work of fiction, and it gets real weird real quick! EnjoyJ]

You’re still in shock that Ryan Lochte- THE Ryan Lochte- is sitting across from you. You’re still not really sure how it all happened. You were at your local bar (Hooters) getting a few drinks with the girls, when this beautiful man walked in. You didn’t believe your friends when they told you that this guy was famous. You thought they were playing a trick on you because your friends are secretly assholes, but it turned out that they were telling the truth! This beautiful specimen of a man was being followed closely by a slew of cameras, and you could faintly hear him screaming a word that sounded like “Yeah” but there was some weird consonant in front of it. Maybe it was a “G” or a “J”- you didn’t really know, and you didn’t want to ask your friends because then you might show your ignorance. So, you just decided to quietly sit at your table, eating your chicken wings, and trying to listen to his conversation without being too obvious. Eventually, you caught Ryan’s eye, and he gave you a wink. You blushed and turned away, but not before seductively giving him a smile back. Ryan looked to his cameramen, gave them a weird hand single, and then slowly started walking towards you.

“OMG” your friend Bethany whisper-screams in your ear. “Ryan freakin Lochte is walking over to our table.”

You and your friends pretend as if you don’t see him walking over towards you. Inside you are sweating up a storm, and you’re secretly thankful that you put deodorant on this morning.

“Hey ladies” Ryan says to the table. Even though he’s talking to everyone, you get the distinct impression that he’s only talking to you. The camera crew is right behind him, silently filming everything. You wonder to yourself if you need to fill out an appearance release, but it’s a fleeting thought.

“Hey Ryan”, your friends Bethany, Kiki, and Britney coo to Ryan in unison.

“What are you ladies doing tonight?” Ryan says in a long, slow southern drawl that goes on forever.

“We’re gonna go out to the club later. You should come”, Bethany says in a cutesy voice.

“JEAH”! Ryan says to no one in particular. “Oh” you think to yourself, that’s what he was saying. What an odd word.

“We’re leaving right now so that we can get to The Club while it’s still ladies free.” Kiki says in a voice almost identical to Bethany.

The thought of going to The Club with Bethany, Kiki, and Britney makes you physically nauseous. You still aren’t quite sure why you’re friends with them. They’re really mean in a Regina George kind of way, and they make you chauffeur them around town. You decide that nothing, not even the notion of partying with Ryan Lochte, is enough to convince you to go to The Club.

“I think I’m going to go home instead guys. I’m really tired”. You fake a long yawn.

Bethany, Kiki, and Britney look at you and roll their eyes in unnerving unity.

“Whatever”, Bethany says to Ryan, “She’s lame anyways. We don’t need her.”

“JEAH! Ok ladies, I’ll meet you outside. JEAH!”

Bethany, Kiki, and Britney each gather their purses, give you one last evil glare, and head outside. Ryan watches them go, and looks directly at the camera.

“Jeahhhhh”, Ryan croons to the camera seductively.

“CUT!” the first AD yells to the small camera crew assembled around our table.

“I think we’re done here, Ryan,” the director tells Ryan as he turns to walk out of the door.

“Jeah” Ryan says, suddenly consumed by the text message he’s furiously typing on his phone. The director and the camera crew pack up their equipment, and start heading out of the door.

“Bye Ryan, we’ll see you at The Club.” the director says as he walks out the door.

“Bye Ryan.” The crew says in unison.

“JEAAHHH” Ryan says back to them, waving his arms wildly in the air like a crazy person.

When the last crew person walks out of the door, Ryan slowly turns to you, and in a voice dripping with the charm of 90’s Hugh Grant, says, “Thank God they’re gone. I thought those guys would never leave”. He then grabs a passing waitress very gently by her elbow, and orders a drink.

“Ill have a Martini, love, and make it as dirty as you possibly can. And deliver it quickly please, I have a few people outside waiting for me”. The waitress writes down his order, and then shuffles to the bar, not knowing or caring who just asked her for a drink.

You don’t understand what’s going on. Why is Ryan speaking properly and not like a Bro? Why did he just order a dirty Martini? Doesn’t he only like beer? As you try to grapple with the myriad of questions running through your head, Ryan slowly turns to you, and smiles. You decide to ask him about his accent.

“Why are you speaking with an accent”, you say, your face giving away just how truly confused you are about the recent events.

Ryan looks at you and gives you a hearty laugh.

“Hahahahaha! You didn’t honestly think I was a dumb jock did you?”

You start to blush, and look away from Ryan for a moment.

“Look sweetheart, I graduated from UF with a Double Masters Degree in Astrophysics and Astronautical Engineering. I also have a Doctorate in Applied Physics.  I’ve been a NASA consultant for… oh… about 5 years now and I’m an honorary member of MENSA.”

Your eyes bulge, and your jaw drops. “Bu…bu… but what about swimming?” you stammer. As soon as the words leave your mouth, you wish you could take them back because they sound so dumb, and you aren’t sure you’re ready to hear the answer Ryan is about to give.

“All rigged. I’ve always been a decent swimmer, but the government decided I would be a more likeable person if I were a gold winning swimmer. It also gives America a sense of pride, so… you know…”. Ryan’s sentence trails off as the waitress returns with his Martini.

“Smashing. Thanks darling. Keep the tip”. Ryan leaves a hundred dollar bill on the waitresses’ tray, and she pockets it and keeps walking. Ryan takes the Martini and takes a long sip.

“Mmmm I do love the Martini’s here. It’s an industry secret that Hooters makes the best cocktails.

You are still looking a Ryan as if he’s an alien. Ryan senses your confusion, and takes a big sip out of his Martini.

“Look, I know this is all a big shock, but it’s the nature of the beast. People like dumb, and I can give them dumb. And it’s pretty great for my checking account!” Ryan chuckles to himself, and then downs the rest of his Martini.

“No one is ever going to believe this”, you say to yourself under your breath. Ryan hears you and smiles in a sinister manner.

“You’re right. No one will ever believe you. So if I were you, I’d keep my mouth shut. You don’t want people to think you’re crazy.”

Ryan looks down at his phone, replies to a text or email, and then gets up. He walks over to your side of the table, looks you in the eye, and gives you a long kiss on your lips. You’re too shocked to do anything but fall into his soft lips, and you decide right then and there that Ryan’s secret is yours to forever keep. Ryan finishes the kiss, gets up, and walks out the door. You realize that he’s left a card with a number on it, and one simple line:

The secret of life is honesty and fair dealing. If you can fake that, you’ve got it made.

You turn the card over inspecting it, and then you put it in your wallet. You motion for the waitress, who comes over to you quickly, probably hoping to score another grand tip.

“I’ll have a Martini, and make it as dirty as you possibly can”.


About Sheri

I love Movies, TV, and The Kardashians. I'm not ashamed of any of those things.

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This entry was posted on May 8, 2013 by in Art & Culture.


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