In today’s morsel of Trivago Guy fan fiction, Trivago Guy must overcome a triple-threat of distractions threatening to spoil his mission to buy a belt online.
I’ve kept you guys waiting long enough. It’s finally time for the third installment of my epic 5,000-word Trivago Guy novella “Trivago Guy Buys a Belt (Or Does He?).” Enjoy.
Trivago Guy Fan Fiction Part 3: “The Lure of Churritos”
Hours whipped by like silvery Trivago-commercial graphics and still, no easy solutions for Trivago Guy’s quandary presented themselves. Trivago Guy’s gray rumpled shirt stuck to his lean chest, which was grossly beaded with sweat from yet another blazing hot day in the San Fernando Valley.
Outside, a portly Mexican street vendor wheeled by with his taco cart advertising his greasy goods by ringing a rusty bicycle bell every so often. A gaggle of scruffy looking children, who’d been playing tag in the street, rejoiced and skipped over the taco man and started fishing into their pockets.
For the first time since his unfortunate encounter with Harry222, Trivago Guy wrested his bloodshot eyes from the computer screen. Elsewhere in his apartment building, somebody yelled something and threw something against a wall. Trivago Guy smiled at this, then leaned over and peered out the window and, for a good five minutes, stared out at the taco cart with a doleful expression on his face. If you were out there on the street looked up towards Trivago Guy’s apartment you’d swear you were looking at a child molester scanning for prey.
But you’d be wrong. Dead wrong. Trivago Guy was not staring at the kids. He hated children, if you want to know the truth. Of course he did. Whenever he encountered children during his rare jaunts to the nearby 7-Eleven, they’d usually give him a weird look, scratch their chins as if deep in thought, then verbalize a veritable laundry list of terrible, unfiltered observations about him. Usually about how tired and vampiric he looked. Kids have no filter, and for that reason Trivago Guy feared them deeply and completely.
Today, Trivago Guy barely even knew the taco cart kids were out there, so hypnotized was he by the plastic bags of orange, wheel-shaped churritos, which happened to be Trivago Guy’s second-favorite snack food after Kool Ranch Doritos. As he listened to the taunting chime of the vendor’s bell, Trivago Guy’s stomach rumbled like crazy and he dug the heels of his Adidas flip flops into the frayed gray carpet, which was so frayed primarily due to churrito-related heel digging.
But this was no time for a snack break! This was not ideal! Trivago Guy needed to figure out what to do about Harry222, if anything, so that he could finally get back to the day’s timely, critical business: buying a belt before the neighbors turned off their Internet connection. In a few hours the neighbors would undoubtedly unplug their wireless router, as they always tended to do in the late-afternoon. And once his connection to the Web was severed, all hope to buy a belt before the end of the day would be lost, dooming Trivago Guy to a most un-ideal life of incompleteness and sadness and mysteriously beltless slacks. Trivago Guy would stew in post-Internet darkness for the rest of the night. Therefore he could afford no distractions.
Ring ring. The churrito vendor, now serving a taco to the leader of the children, somehow managed to continue ringing his bicycle bell despite the fact that both of his hands were occupied in the making of the taco. But Trivago Guy wasn’t observant enough to realize that he was witnessing a miracle—the Los Angeles equivalent of water being turned to wine. No, he was simply thinking about the bags of churritos. He wanted them so bad.
His next-door neighbors finally finished having loud sex (Oh, I forgot to mention, Trivago Guy’s 60-year-old neighbors had been having loud sex in the background since the very beginning of this story). Minutes were flying by like seconds. So many distractions! Harry222’s cyber-bullying continued to eat at him. The churritos continued to taunt him. The neighbors who’d just stopped having sex at the beginning of this paragraph, now started again, louder than ever.
“Enough!!!” shouted Trivago Guy. He took a deep cleansing breath. Then he collected himself, moved his mouse icon to the “X” box at the top left of his browser’s window, and, without further incident, he clicked. The dreaded Trivago Guy Fan Page forum disappeared from the screen of his ancient Gateway computer. And yes, it really stung him to let Harry222’s final comment go unchallenged—which kinda validated it, in all fairness—but Trivago Guy’s thing was this: What good was a sterling online reputation if he didn’t even have a belt? The belt was the key. To everything. And once the danger of distraction was past, a fresh wave of excitement and determination flushed through Trivago Guy’s lean, highly tanned body. Let’s get this thing done!
Trivago Guy WILL be back…
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Read the previous installment of Trivago Guy Fan Fiction
This story is inspired by a brilliant article on Rolling Stone’s website entitled “What’s the Deal With the Trivago Guy?”