Sometimes, usually Sunday thru Saturday, I think I am more important than I really am. Here’s the thing, if I don’t think I’m ‘all that,’ why would anyone else think it?
Last night, after Tree did cartwheels to the pub and I bought a front door (that I’ll never use) out of the bed of some strange guy’s truck, we found ourselves waiting in a line.
“What is this shit?” I asked D-Dog and Tree. “I’m not a fan of lines,” Tree said. “Me neither. Especially when wanting to get into a bar. I haven’t waited in line like this since the late 1900s,” I told them. Sleepless and Ice Cream Man were about three people in front of us and had just been let in the bar. “Bar is closed for now,” the bouncer told everyone waiting in line, while I was leaving a message for the strange guy about my newly acquired front door. “What did he just say?” I asked. “Bar is closed. They’re not letting anyone else in for now,” D-Dog told me.
We opted to leave the line and go to my house for food and Just Dance – no waiting for either. The next morning, I noticed I had a message from Sleepless, apologizing for what happened at the pub. “That line was not her fault,” I told Tree. “She really doesn’t need to apologize for things she can’t control and didn’t do.” “No kidding,” Tree replied and added, “She needs to read our book, ‘Bitch and Asshole.'” “I like the title. Oreggano may want to co-author,” I advised him. “That’s fine. I know she’ll be a good contributor,” he stated. I was thinking about telling Oreggano the plan, but I didn’t want to hear her bitch about only being a co-author.
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