Date Night

“Then again, what the hell did I care – the plan was that I’d just do my “picking away at it with my fork” routine, which of course would make her think I was some light, dainty guy accustomed to eating sprigs of parsley with almond drizzle and not a three hundred pound lummox covered in sweat from using the salt shaker. I’m surprised I didn’t plant a sleeve of Pringles in the bathroom behind the toilet to inhale on the sly throughout dinner.”


Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *