Class, pay attention!
Now today's work is going to be a short essay on how one knows when one is too young for them.
Now, does anyone have an example of what I might be looking for?
Anyone?
Anyone?
[Couldn't help the Ferris Bueller there, sorry :)]
Anyone?
Oh, Kate? Is that your hand I see up back there?
Sure why don't you tell us?
Dude.
The dude at Sprint last night? He could have sold me an effing gold plated ghetto phone and I would have smiled and asked where to sign.
I have never been so happy to have a company's computer not work.
For an hour.
In my whole life.
The eyes? Holy shit.... the eyes...
The dude was smoking hot and I would have pegged him for... twenty five. Which is the worst age ever.
Ever ever.
But that's what I would have guessed.
And I would have guessed wrong because as I ever so smoothly convinced him to share with me his age, turned out to be twenty one!
Geez-us.
So I spent like forty five minutes flirting with this dude and trying to convince myself that twenty one was not too young for me.
Which it obviously is.
Right?
RIGHT???
Did I mention the eyes?
And his name doesn't start with an "M"...
*sigh*
Back to work
Labels: Being a Chic, Dating, my crazy life, My pathetic excuse for a love life
