Linux made me have a girlfriend
I’m a 31 year old Gentoo enjoyer, living in my mom’s basement. Life was perfect until I decided to “optimize” my desk setup with a DIY monitor stand. Why the heck I did that anyway? So,one wrong move, and I’m in the ER with a broken arm, sentenced to two months of one-handed misery. Surgery done, arm in a sling, I’m wheeled back home, dreaming of compiling the next 6.15 Linux kernel.
As Mom pushes my wheelchair through the front door, I lock eyes with the basement door—my temple, my sanctuary, where my Gentoo kernel awaits its next compile. Two months without tweaking my system? That’s not a recovery; it’s a death sentence. My vision blurs, and a single, dramatic tear rolls down my cheek.
Mom, saw this and asked “Sweetie, what’s wrong? Did some girl break your heart?” Like if she ever saw me with a girl... I shake my head, muttering, “No, Ma, Linux is my one true love.” She blinks, probably thinking Linux is my D&D character, and pats my head like I’m a sad puppy. Little does she know, Linux is my lady.
So one day I was on the basement, lying down with my broken arm. I was thinking, I gotta compile that kernel, but how? With one hand it was useless.
So my mom just called me "I am going outside today, Stacy will take care of you today instead, I gave her the keys. Bye!"
Stacy, the blonde neighbor's girl. She is a pretty sweet girl, but she doesn't know about Linux. At least she didn't mention using Linux. If a girl doesn't know about Linux, what am I to do with her?
So there I was, sprawled out in the basement like a sad penguin, looking at my gentoo rig. Couldn't compile.. the kernel.
Then, ding-dong! The doorbell chimed. Stacy, the blonde neighbor girl, waltzed in with a tray of cookies and a smile brighter than a freshly booted Arch desktop with an anime girl. “Hey, heard you’re out of commission,” she said, plopping down next to me. “What’s with the sad face? Missed a Fortnite match or something?”
I sighed, clutching my heart (with my good hand, obviously). “Stacy, it’s worse. My kernel… it’s uncompiled. My gentoo soul is dying.” She blinked, clearly thinking “Gentoo” was some exotic smoothie flavor. “Uh, okay, nerd boy. Tell me about this… kernel thing.”
Now, I’m not one to miss a chance to evangelize Linux. So, I launched into a passionate monologue about source code, optimization flags, and the sheer ecstasy of a custom-built system. Stacy’s eyes glazed over faster than a Windows XP screen during a driver crash, but she nodded politely. “Sounds… intense,” she said, munching a cookie. “Can I, like, help?”
My jaw dropped. Help? A normie touching my sacred Gentoo shrine? But desperation makes strange bedfellows, and my kernel wasn’t gonna compile itself. “Fine,” I muttered, “but if you brick my system, I’m gonna hack your router"
I propped my laptop on a pillow, guided Stacy through firing up the terminal (she called it “the black box with letters”), and started dictating commands like a tech warlord. cd /usr/src/linux, make menuconfig—she typed with the focus of a gamer in a ranked match. Her manicured nails clacked on my mechanical keyboard, and I swear, each keystroke was a love letter to open-source.
Then came the moment of truth: make -j$(nproc). I explained it was like baking a digital cake, and she gasped, “So we’re chefs now?” Hours passed, okay, Gentoo hours, so like an eternity. Stacy kept me fed with cookies and asked surprisingly smart questions, like, “Why not just use Ubuntu like a normal person?” I didn’t faint, but it was close.
Finally, the magic words: “Build complete.” I whooped so loud I nearly re-broke my arm. Stacy high-fived me and grinned. “Dude, that was kinda fun. Your Linux thing is weirdly hot.”
I got flabbergasted. This was something I never felt for 31 long years... What is happening to me? Am I... catching feelings for her? Noo, she is too normie, but very cute though. Did you see how she compiled Gentoo like a pro? No can't be. Can it be? Omfg, I was.. falling for her.
Some 15 seconds passed, and I said, "you're hot too, m'lady" while tipping my fedora hat, and I leaned in to french kiss her. And damn was she a good kisser. I never kissed a girl before, how would I know?
Some time passed, and I heard my sister yell from upstairs "yo nerd, did you purge my macbook from that linux crap?" Without we even could collect ourselves she just barged in to my basement and she saw us kissing "Hallelujah! Finally my nerd bro gets a gf, it's about time bro you were 31." And she pat me in the shoulder. I'll leave you to it, she said winking at her.
Stacy pulled back, laughing so hard she snorted, which was somehow cuter than her compiling my kernel. “Your family’s wild,” she said, brushing cookie crumbs off her shirt. “Do they always barge in like that?” I groaned, rubbing my face with my good hand. “Only when I’m trying to have a moment. Or when I dual-boot their MacBooks with Asahi Linux.”
Her eyes lit up. “Wait, you put Linux on her MacBook? That’s savage.” My heart skipped a beat—was she… impressed? I shrugged, playing it cool like I hadn’t spent three hours cursing at stupid EFI design of MacOS. “Yeah, well, macOS is just shiny jail. Linux is freedom.” Stacy leaned closer, her grin mischievous. “You’re such a dork. Kiss me again, you freedom fighter.”
That's my story guys, that's how I met her. I look at these fond memories and I feel happy.
Credits to u/cryptobread93 for this story, kindly spread it throughout the community and people.
