That’s like, what happens when your companion wakes up in a cold sweat in the middle of the night with the false realization that he (or she) missed some important date for you, e.g; birthday, wedding anniversary, bar mitzvah, etc.omg it was a gift. today i was given a totally worthless book by my follower and i kept it because it was a gift. even though it’s FUCKING WORTHLESS it’s really the thought that counts. i might read it.
And he can’t figure out what it is, all he knows is that he missed it and he doesn’t want to look like a lousy friend but as he already missed the date, he already is a lousy friend so all he can do now is damage control.
So he goes rummaging around in his bag for something he doesn’t really want but also wouldn’t be a 100% total crap gift.
Leftover prescription fungus medication = bad gift.
Harlequin romance novel with a really lurid, Fabio-laden cover and a title like “The Tramp Wore Tartan” = slightly better.
And when it comes between that and a Polly-O string cheese stick that’s been in there since the Potema administration, the choice is obvious.
(I’d also like to take a moment to reiterate that Tumblr’s text editor really bites the weenie.)