So last Thursday I decided to dig into what makes Virgos tick, right? Saw this personality stuff everywhere and thought “why not just test it myself?” Grabbed my notebook and went full detective mode for a whole week. Started with my college buddy Mark who’s a hardcore Virgo – I ain’t gonna name full names but yeah, asked if I could practically stalk him (politely). Dude actually laughed and said “Knock yourself out.” Perfect.
The Observation Setup
First thing Monday morning, I camped at his studio apartment pretending to work on my laptop while eyeing his routine like a hawk. Woke up at 6:30 AM exactly, bedsheets folded military-style before coffee. Watched him reorganize his spice rack alphabetically after burning his toast. Classic move.
Tuesday was grocery day – holy hell. This man spent 20 minutes comparing cucumber freshness with a magnifying app. When the cashier miscounted change? He politely explained the math. Twice. I scribbled “PRECISION OVERLOAD” in caps.
Five Traits in the Wild
By Friday I’d nailed five patterns popping up constantly:
- Detail Monster: Found him rewriting a work email seven times because commas “felt off.” My eyes nearly rolled into oblivion.
- Practical Everything: His date canceled? Immediately rescheduled logistics instead of moping. Bought fire extinguishers “just in case.” Snooze fest but smart.
- Critic Mode Activated: “Your phone background clashes with your case color” – actual feedback he gave me. Nearly chucked my coffee at him.
- Service Obsessed: Helped his neighbor carry boxes unprompted. Fixed my zip like it was a moral duty. Annoyingly wholesome.
- Worry Machine: Overanalyzed a text from his mom for 40 minutes. “What if ‘okay’ means she’s secretly mad?” Dude. Chill.
Told Mark my findings Saturday over beers. He just shrugged. “Sounds accurate. But you spilled coffee on my notes – fix that.” Proof right freaking there. Total Virgo.
The experiment notes? They’ve been sitting on my shelf neater than my grandma’s yarn balls since last week. Mostly gathering dust now, but hey – at least I finally understand why Mark alphabetizes his socks. Ain’t got time for that nonsense myself.
