It’s been a long few days at work. Lots of bitching and moaning, mostly from the staff really. I tried to bribe one or two to go for margaritas after work but they were so enamored with me they couldn’t decline my generous offer fast enough.
Instead I took myself for a walk with my dog. I was talking to her as we’re walking; it’d be rude to just ignore her! Encouraging her to be a bit braver in the garage of death, as I affectionately call it, at my sister’s house. Guy on a bicycle doubles back and slooooowly heads my way again.
“I like your accent” he says, as he passes us for the third time. “Thanks” says I, dragging Hurley around the corner. “Can you say toe-may-toe?” “Tomato.” “That’s so freaking hot! What to go somewhere?”
“No! Fuck no!”
I crossed the street, proudly dragging my terrified canine companion behind me. And hoped he didn’t see which way I came home.
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