It Gets Worse

by Shane Dawson

  ME: Please. Just give me a truth. I’ll answer anything—I promise!

  TARA: Fine, truth. Why won’t you kiss Sara? Is it ’cause you have a crush on her?

  The whole room ooooooooohs like a bunch of toddlers.

  ME: No. She’s not even my type.

  TARA: Who is your type?

  Girls with blond hair. Guys with kind eyes but a mean streak. It’s complicated. Avril complicated.

  ME: I don’t know.

  TARA: So then why didn’t you kiss her?

  ME: Because I’ve never kissed before.

  The room got quiet.

  TARA: Really? Not even a relative?

  ME: I mean, sometimes my uncle gets drunk and plays with my boobs, but he never slips me the tongue.

  TARA: How have you not killed yourself yet?

  ME: Food helps.

  Later that night it was just Tara and me lying on the floor in my room talking about the party. Everyone had already left and we were recapping.

  TARA: Can you believe Allan picked up a quarter with his asshole?

  ME: And he sang the alphabet backward while doing it. He’s so talented. It’s not fair. All I can do is suck air into my butt and fart it back out. And I’m not even sure that’s a talent. I think it might actually be a medical condition.

  TARA: Speaking of weird things you do, were you serious about never being kissed?

  ME: Ya. I know it’s a shock. How could a guy with lips this chapped and bloody not have people sucking all over them?

  TARA: Your lips are always bleeding. You should probably get that checked.

  ME: I’ll make sure to mention it to the doctor after he checks out my anus vacuum.

  We both laughed, and then it got silent. Tara lifted her head up from the floor and rolled over onto my chest. She looked at me with love in her eyes like she was about to tell me she had feelings for me. I clearly remember my heart started to race, and my boobs started to sweat.

  TARA: Shane. You know I love you, right?

  ME: What?

  TARA: You know, as a brother.

  ME: Oh. Ya. Of course.

  TARA: Because I love you, I want you to know that I would do anything for you.

  ME: Like give me a kidney?

  TARA: I was thinking more like a blow job.

  Annnnnnd my boobs were puddles.

  ME: What?!

  TARA: I know you have never done anything like that, and I know you really want to. And I know you probably won’t find anyone to do it for you until you grow up and get all rich and successful, so I thought I could help.

  ME: I thought you were gonna offer to kiss me!

  TARA: NO! That’s way too special! You have to save that for someone you love.

  ME: And sucking my dick isn’t?

  TARA: Please, sucking dick is nothing. Like a hand job or fingering. Literally meaningless.

  ME: Wow. I want to live in your world.

  TARA: So what do you say?

  She put her hand on my zipper and started to move it down.

  ME: Thanks, but because I love you like a sister, I think it might be kinda weird.

  TARA: Ok, well if you ever change your mind, I’m here for you. Just think of me as your mouth to fuck.

  ME: I’m sure many people do.

  Five years later, the closest I had come to getting a blow job was sticking my dick in a pool drain and getting it stuck. At twenty-two years old I was ready to finally get intimate with someone, and unfortunately I hadn’t kept in touch with Tara, so I had to go elsewhere. It was a Friday night and I was at a party full of YouTubers, and I definitely wasn’t looking for any potential relationships. This was also before being a YouTuber was “cool” and “glamorous,” so the vibe of the party was a little less Kardashian and a little more Duck Dynasty. There wasn’t a photo booth with cool props to post on your Instagram, and there sure as hell wasn’t a Taco Bell truck with free burritos till three a.m. It was just twenty YouTubers, a bucket full of beer, and lots of people vlogging. It’s what I imagined hell to be like, and all I wanted to do was leave.

  As I was making my way out, I saw a girl standing on the porch waiting for her ride. As she turned her head I noticed her instantly. She was a YouTuber who I had been cyber-stalking for months. She had the softest-looking hair I had ever seen. It was like a horse jumping through the sky, which, by the way, you should never tell a girl, because it did not go over well.

  ME: Wow. Your hair is so long. It’s like a horse.

  YOUTUBE GIRL: You’re saying I look like a horse?

  ME: No! Just your hair. But not in a bad way.

  YOUTUBE GIRL: How is that not bad? Don’t horses lie in their own shit?

  ME: They also have penises the size of traffic cones!

  Girls also don’t like it when you compare them to something that has a monster dick.

  ME: Let me start over. Hi, I’m Shane.

  YOUTUBE GIRL: I know who you are! I’m just messing with you. I get your humor.

  ME: Really? That’s amazing! Most girls would have slapped me if I compared them to a farm animal.

  YOUTUBE GIRL: Well, I grew up on a farm, so I consider it a compliment.

  ME: You did? That’s awesome!

  I already knew. I had seen all her videos and knew her entire backstory. Number of siblings. Names of parents. Age of first period. I was a walking Wikipedia page for this girl.

  YOUTUBE GIRL: We should hang out sometime. I just moved to LA, so I’m looking for friends.

  ME: Of course! I’d love to. Just let me know when and I’ll bring my saddle! Unless you wanna go bareback?

  I laughed. She didn’t. Too far.

  YOUTUBE GIRL: Well, I’ll see you around, cowboy.

  As she rode off in her friend’s car I couldn’t help but notice her hair flying out of the window, looking like a horse galloping across the desert. It was beautiful, and all I wanted to do was ride her.

  • • •

  DING. The next day I got a text from my horse-haired goddess. I jumped out of bed and unlocked my phone. I was like a kid on Christmas, and I was hoping to finally get the pony I had always asked for.

  TEXT FROM YOUTUBE GIRL: Hey Shane. Wanna hang out tonight?

  I gasped in excitement. I ran over to my computer and started playing “I’m with You” by Avril Lavigne. Some things never change.

  TEXT FROM ME: Sure! My barn or yours?

  TEXT FROM YOUTUBE GIRL: Really? Still?

  TEXT FROM ME: Sorry.

  We decided to meet at her place and watch a movie. Up until this point I had never been on a date, so I had no idea what to expect. I wasn’t even sure this was a date. I asked my brother for some advice.

  ME: Do you think it’s a date?

  BROTHER: Is it just you and her?

  ME: Ya.

  BROTHER: Then hell ya. Why else would a guy and a girl hang out if it wasn’t to try and fuck?

  ME: To be friends?

  BROTHER: That’s what ugly people say.

  ME: Oh.

  BROTHER: Ugly people are friends. Pretty people fuck. Sometimes a pretty person fucks an ugly person, but that’s usually for karma points or because they have daddy issues. Does she have daddy issues?

  ME: I don’t think so.

  BROTHER: Hmmmm . . . then she must need some serious karma points.

  As I drove up to her house I started to get nervous. I started thinking of all the ways I could mess this up, most of which included me showing her my butt vacuum. I tend to do it when I get nervous.

  DING-DONG. I rang the doorbell, and after the longest ten seconds of my life she opened the door. She looked incredible, and I was speechless. The only sound my body made was the WHOOOSHING sound from my ass sucking up all that air.

  YOUTUBE GIRL: Wanna come in?

  WOOOOOOOOOOSH.

  YOUTUBE GIRL: I’ll take that as a yes.

  We walked inside and sat on the couch. We talked for hours about life, being a YouTuber, and how hard it was to explain
to people what we did for a living. I can’t imagine being a hot girl and having to tell people that you make internet videos for a living. That has porn written all over it. The night felt really casual and it didn’t feel like a date at all, and that’s because it wasn’t. She genuinely just wanted to hang out with me and make a new friend. I was disappointed but at the same time relieved because I would have had no idea what to do if she had made a move on me. I probably would have jumped on her back and kicked her in the ribs. I don’t think that would have gone over too well.

  For the following few months we hung out almost every night. We watched movies, baked cookies, and even went grocery shopping. It was almost like we were married, except we didn’t have sex, so it was EXACTLY like we were married!

  One night we were watching TV in her room and she rested her head on my shoulder. Uh-oh. I could feel the boob sweat coming back. She looked up at me with the same look in her eyes that Tara had five years earlier. But it wasn’t the look of wanting to give me a blow job. It was the look of wanting me to kiss her. I didn’t know what to do. I was too nervous to go in for a kiss, and I also was scared that if I moved my boob, sweat would leak and drown her. So instead I just smiled back at her and then looked back up at the TV. It was at that moment I knew I had friend-zoned myself.

  Later that night she fell asleep next to me, and I felt butterflies. I had never spent the night at a girl’s house, and even though we were just friends, I wanted to curl up next to her like a puppy and listen to her breathe. I turned off the TV and grabbed a blanket, and I laid it on top of her, making sure to cover every inch of her sweet cold little body. Then I lay down beside her and just watched her. I watched her sleep for hours, and I promise it’s not as creepy as it sounds. I was just falling in love with this girl who I had been spending so much of my time with.

  The next morning I heard her wake up. I closed my eyes and pretended to snore, so she wouldn’t know I was up all night staring at her. As I closed my eyes I heard her get up, and I felt her put her blanket over me. When she lay back down and went back to sleep I couldn’t help but be overwhelmed with love. I had never had a girl treat me like that, let alone want to sleep next to me. Even during sleepovers as a kid I was the one that people would stay far away from, mainly because I peed the bed and spoke in tongues when I hit my REM cycle. But it’s not my fault I had a small bladder and an overly religious upbringing.

  The next night we decided to go to the mall. While we were walking around we came across a Hot Topic store, and she dragged me in. Back in 2010 I had my own line of shirts in Hot Topic and they were as embarrassing as you’d expect. Lots of weird images of my face, way too many colors, and one shirt that said “SHANE DAWSON IS MY BOYFRIEND.” I’m not sure who thought that was a good idea, considering I was a twenty-two-year-old man and my audience was mostly twelve, but either way, I’m sure today there is a Goodwill with LOTS of “Shane Dawson Is My Boyfriend” shirts. She dragged me inside and ripped one off the wall.

  YOUTUBE GIRL: I HAVE to get this!

  As she turned around I saw that she was holding up the boyfriend shirt. My heart exploded. Was this her asking to be my girlfriend? Was this her telling me that I’m more than a friend? Was she the only person who had ever wanted to buy one in this store, because there were HUNDREDS left on the wall? All these questions were filling up my brain, and I couldn’t even bring myself to respond. Luckily I was cut off by an employee.

  HOT TOPIC GUY: Hey, those are 50 percent off clearance. If you want to just take it, I won’t tell anyone. I’m kinda sick of looking at that guy’s weird face.

  ME: No, we’re just looking.

  HOT TOPIC GUY: Hey, you look familiar. Aren’t you the kid from Drake and Josh?

  ME: Drake Bell? No, but I do get that a lot.

  HOT TOPIC GUY: No! Josh Peck! The one that use to be all super fat. Now he has that weird “I used to be fat” body.

  ME: That’s me!

  Sometimes it’s easier to just go along with it.

  As we walked out of the Hot Topic with no pride left in my body and no money left in my wallet from all the shitty Shane Dawson shirts she made me buy, YouTube Girl turned to me and asked me a question I will never forget. And surprisingly, it wasn’t if I was gay.

  YOUTUBE GIRL: Do you want to meet my family?

  ME: What?

  YOUTUBE GIRL: I have to go back home to see them soon. Do you want to come with me?

  ME: Ya! Sure!

  YOUTUBE GIRL: Cool! I’ve been telling them so much about you. They can’t wait to meet you!

  My first thought was, “WE’RE GETTING MARRIED!” My second thought was, “Oh God, I hope she didn’t tell them about how I like to eat things out of her trash.”

  A week later we were on our way to her hometown in the middle of the country, and I couldn’t have been more excited to see where she came from. How could a girl so beautiful be so sweet and so down-to-earth? In the airport we were waiting to hear our plane board and I noticed she was on her phone texting someone. My first thought was: “Awwww, she must be telling her parents that we are on our way! I bet they are so excited! They are probably setting up a hummus platter!”

  When I looked down at her phone I saw a kissy face emoji. I didn’t get too paranoid because she could have sent that to her mother. It’s not weird to do that, right? I used to send pictures of my boobs to my uncle all the time!

  When we got off the plane her family ran up to us and it was like a scene in one of those Christmas movies. We all embraced and hugged for a solid five minutes. I hadn’t felt this much family love in a long time. Not since Kelly Clarkson won American Idol.

  YOUTUBE GIRL’S MOM: Shane, it’s so nice to finally meet you! I’ve heard so much about you!

  ME: Nothing bad hopefully!

  YOUTUBE GIRL’S MOM: No! And you are definitely going to have to show us that butt trick you do when we get home!

  Moms like ass play? Who knew?

  • • •

  That night we had a family dinner, and we all sat around talking until one in the morning. It felt so comfortable and so right. I sat next to my dream girl and gave her looks throughout the night. At one point she even put her hand on my leg under the table to let me know I was doing a good job impressing the parents. After dinner it was time to go to bed, and I was shown to her old childhood bedroom. I felt strange about sleeping in the bed that she’d probably hit puberty in, but I guess it would have been more strange to sleep in the same room as her in her parent’s house. It’s not like we were going to do anything, though. We hadn’t even kissed! I wasn’t even sure if we were dating. I felt like we were friends with benefits, but not the sexual kind. It was more friends with benefits of helping each other pick out clothes and organize each other’s closets. Now that I think about it, maybe I was her personal assistant? Either way, I wasn’t getting any horseplay, and I was getting anxious about it.

  That night I woke up and needed to get a glass of water. As I walked into the kitchen, I saw that her mother was sitting at the table looking at Twitter on her laptop and eating some leftover dessert. She was my soul mate.

  YOUTUBE GIRL’S MOM: Hey, Shane. You’re up late.

  ME: Ya, just thirsty. What are you doing up?

  YOUTUBE GIRL’S MOM: Just reading what all these kids are saying about my daughter.

  ME: You actually read that stuff ?

  YOUTUBE GIRL’S MOM: Oh ya. I read everything. Sometimes I even reply.

  ME: Even to the bad stuff ?

  YOUTUBE GIRL’S MOM: That’s the best part! I scare the shit out of them and tell them I’m gonna file a lawsuit for harassment. There’s nothing better than a little troll scared shitless.

  Once again, my soul mate.

  YOUTUBE GIRL’S MOM: So, you really like my daughter, don’t you?

  ME: Yes, ma’am.

  YOUTUBE GIRL’S MOM: What are you gonna do about it?

  ME: What do you mean?

  YOUTUBE GIRL’S MOM: Seems to
me she likes you too. But you guys are so far in the friend zone you’re practically doing each other’s toenails. Which, by the way, it wouldn’t hurt you to do something with yours. Your toenails are so long they’re scratching up my wood floors.

  ME: You really think she likes me?

  YOUTUBE GIRL’S MOM: I’ve never heard her talk about anyone the way she talks about you. You’ve just got to tell her how you feel.

  ME: Thanks.

  YOUTUBE GIRL’S MOM: You’re welcome. Now, one question, how do you spell “douche nozzle”? I’m trying to reply to this dumb-ass kid and I’ve already used “ass hat” four times tonight.

  The rest of the trip I tried to find a way to tell my friend how I felt but I just couldn’t do it. I was so scared of her rejecting me and then I’d be stuck spending the rest of the week with her in her childhood home. It had terrible Reese Witherspoon movie written all over it. But on the flight back home, I decided it was the time for me to speak up.

  ME: Hey, I want to talk to you about something.

  YOUTUBE GIRL: Is this about my little sister asking if you wear a wig? It’s not your fault. It just looks kinda fake sometimes.

  ME: No. It’s about my feelings for you.

  YOUTUBE GIRL: Oh.

  Oh. Just oh? I could already tell this wasn’t going to end in wedding bells, but it was too late. I had to say it.

  ME: I like you. A lot. And I just don’t know what we are doing.

  YOUTUBE GIRL: What do you mean?

  ME: I slept with you. I met your family. I even stayed up all night talking to your mom.

  YOUTUBE GIRL: Wait what? First of all, we didn’t sleep together!

  ME: Sorry, what I meant was I watched you sleep.

  YOUTUBE GIRL: WHAT?!

  Backpedal. Backpedal.

  ME: I’m sorry. This is all coming out wrong. I just wanted to tell you that I see you as more than a friend.

  DING DING. She was getting another text.

  YOUTUBE GIRL: Just a second.

  She looked down at her phone and started to reply. As she answered her text I started plotting ways to get out of this situation. Maybe I would open the emergency door and get sucked out? Maybe I would try to hijack the plane and get shot by the air marshal? Anything seemed better than sitting in awkward silence waiting to have my heart broken.