You know when you find yourself at Marquee (this place is still open?) at 3 AM on a Wednesday (I’m still engaging in such tomfoolery at my advanced age?) at the after-after-after party, coined by the two remaining participants of the evening—namely you and the male intern you’ve been sexually harassing for the past two months (all in good fun, I promise?)—and he calls his “friend”(his anti-friend?) who, you are told, when the upstanding young citzen arrives, you have to stay inside the club alone while said intern rides around the block with him, you know you need to stop accepting all invitations that come your way.
“I like your (*terrorist*) scarf.”
“Thanks! I got it in (REDACTED) European city. So, you know, it’s super inflammatory.”
“Zing!” *(High fives)*
“I like your (*terrorist*) scarf.”
“Thanks! I got it in (REDACTED) European city. So, you know, it’s super inflammatory.”
“Zing!” *(High fives)*
1 comment:
your comments on the silly silly subversive hipster culture are the absolute bestest. what a bunch of nimrods they are.
also, did you cougar the intern or what?
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