Yesterday was New Years, and via my 19-yr-old kinda attitude, in true drunken fashion, a couple of adventures came to pass. But I can't put them all in one story and lose my regular readership, so you'll have to read another post in a day or so.
But here's todays story:
It's 3:30 in the morning, and in the middle of the street on 20th Avenue, in front of Jimmy's stands a girl. Like a deer caught in headlights, she's just standing there, looking confused, and listening intently, holding something in her hand. She's wearing a short-sleeved dress, but no jacket. Her shoes don't match her outfit at all as they are ass-kicking/moon-walking/combat-looking boots.
She takes a step to the left and a step to the right, clearly distraught and frustrated. Then she bends down to pick an object up from a deep pile of snow. Her blackberry.
It always happens to me, what could I say?
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