Last Nights Creeper

Regardless of how you fare on the physical scale, every woman who has been out and about in Manhattan can testify to being victimized by a#certifiedcreep. The minute you make your dance floor entrance, the certified creep carefully reviews his ploy to eventually lure you back to the comforts of his bed and have his way with you. No matter what state you’re in, he wants those legs spread nice and wide so he can in most cases, dispose of you the next morning and brag about it to his #bros. He will most likely pull a Max Tucker and fabricate some incriminating story about what a clumsy slut you were and how he should’ve known better. Something along the lines of not bringing you to the hospital after you fell down an entire flight of stairs slipping on a puddle of your own vomit and instead laughed heartlessly to himself. However, he completely spun the story out of proportion because he is simply a #certifiedcreep. In actuality, you merely tripped on one step in the 7 inch Louboutains you borrowed from your friend last night, and to avoid nearly tumbling to your own death, took off your shoes after he offered to carry you the rest of the flight down. But you were heavier than expected, probably from all the Forty Carrots you’ve been indulging in after your much needed summer shopping sprees at Bloomingdales, and the #certifiedcreep doesn’t like that. Of course he won’t tell you that, but don’t be fooled! The certified creep will do anything in his power to guise himself as the perfectly chivalrous suitor that you dreamed about meeting after watching countless Fabio flicks during your teenage years. However, the #certifiedcreep comes in all shapes and sizes, that’s why I’m here to discern whether the guy you met lastnight is a #Keeper or #Creeper.