While playing dodgeball tonight, a weird sweat stain developed on the front of my shirt. I was hardly the only one with this problem, but then I caught the girl next to me looking at it, and I got self-conscious, so I turned so she couldn't continue to stare.
Realizing that her staring had been noticed, she quickly apologized. "Sorry, I was just trying to read your shirt."
"Oh, sure," I said. I didn't believe it, but as someone who has used the same excuse after being caught looking at cleavage, I felt it only polite to just agree.
Then I glanced down to confirm what was on my shirt, and that's when I remembered that it was just a plain shirt. No text, no image, just a single solid color. And unless she's a special kind of fortune teller who can predict the future by the shape of perspiration stains, she wasn't "reading" my shirt.
Right after discovering the inconsistency, I tried to make eye contact with her, but she averted her eyes, most likely realizing the excuse she gave was not plausible. Busted! Doesn't she look stupid, I thought. Then I remembered that I was the one with a gross sweat stain, so I still looked stupider.
And then I got hit in the penis with a dodgeball.