The bouncing-bambam miracle.
It was 7pm, and i was getting hungry.
Should i get a McDonald’s or should i get a pizza? I need to get dressed, because i was going to my boyfriend’s dad’s place for dinner, or it wasn’t that late to probably sneak in a pizza… but it was, rude. Not gonna risk it.
Dressed up, in my standard collegiate blue-and-white: plain white button down from when i wasn’t a thousand pounds heavier, blue slacks, & my burgundy cole-haan loafers from when my feet were dainty and less tired, and my standard issue purse-tote thing that masked the thousand things “i might need” like my physics scribble notebook from junior year.
And we went to dinner. It was a formal one - and i was shocked that there were three tables to the dinner. Was there an occasion that i turned up and not brought a present? That would be rude. Horrified, i go and say my requisite heaping three-tablefuls of hellos, and...
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