I just found a purple crayon in my bed. Either a certain two year old left it behind after an afternoon of bedtop bollywood dancing… or I got totally wasted with Harold last night and don’t remember bringing him home.
There’s a couple two booths over on what I’ll assume is a first date. I swear to you, not only has she not gotten a word in edgewise, but he hasn’t paused enough to take a breath. 30 minutes, and I haven’t heard her voice. Im so tempted to jump over and exclaim “what about me!”
He’s talking about how nice guys finish last, btw.
Could you just hop over there and give her a nice theatrical whisper: “RUN!”