During our walk back, after a half hour straight of babbling stories from last three years of my life, I said, “Wow, I’m sorry. I really just went on and on there, didn’t I? I didn’t mean to turn this into the ‘Jess Show’.”
Friend replies, “No, it’s ok. I haven’t seen you in a long time so I’m actually trying to soak as much of you up as I can. You’re one of the most interesting people I know; you’re always getting into adventures. Most people just get up, go to their jobs, go home and go to bed. But you always seem to start talking to someone, or one thing happens which leads to this other thing, which leads you to another, and next thing you know you end up in some kind of adventure.”
I meekly responded, “No, I’m normal too. I go to work and come home and nothing exciting happens. My life isn’t just one series of adventures after another. Most of the time my life is fairly uninteresting.”
Right at that moment, amidst the heavy July air, a random drunken girl runs up to me from across the street, tugs my arm and– I swear I’m not making this up– says, “OMG, you’re soooo cute! I mean it. Will you come back to my place to make out with me? I promise I won’t have sex with you, I just want to make out.”
Maybe I was wrong?
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