"Are those yours?"
"They're very cute."
"I'll trade you for a pack of cigarettes."
"Well I'd give you a whole carton for those two"
"Trust me, I'd have to give you a carton."
Well shit. I'm sure his Jennifer Anistonesque wife was waiting in the parking lot. So much for that. I refuse to be a homewrecker. I will be a heartless man abuser, but not a homewrecker.
And anyway, the cute guy in Chipotle laughs at every snide thing I say, and today he asked me where I work and at what kind of hours. It has taken me a while to realize I like him, so I haven't acted like a complete douchebag in front of him yet. There's all the time in the world for that. If this works out, imagine all the burritos I will be hooked up with. 1/2 of diet in the bag. I just need a man at Wendy's now.
Better than any man is the Dirty Dancing soundtrack on cassette that I found at Dimple the other day. One might think this would be a relatively easy thing to find, but nay. This discovery has made my tooling around in the car 100% better. When a cop pulled me over the other day and made me promise to display a license plate in the front of the car, I complied by shoving it in the window. At least now when I brake abruptly and it nearly decapitates me, I can have the time of my life shortly before having the time of my death.