sk8r boi
While lying on the couch with my Lovely a couple of nights ago, I made the mistake of trying to make conversation.
Me: “It’s funny, since the snow melted, it’s like the Empty Fairy has been replacing all of the undergrads’ empty beer bottles with skate boards.”
Her: “If you wait until your birthday the Empty Fairy might get you a skateboard too.”
Me: “But I don’t want a skateboard!”
Her: “You keep mentioning them!”
Me: “But I don’t want one! The idea of skating on road with cars scares me.”
Her: “When we were out west, you spent a whole afternoon in a skatepark.”
Me: “Yeah, because they guy who drove me there took off for three hours. I spent three hours in a skatepark with a board that was too small, wearing safety pads designed for a 6-year old.”
Her: “Then I’ll get you a long board.”
Me: “But I don’t want a long board! I don’t have anywhere to ride it!”
Her: “We could go to the experimental farm.”
Me: “Are you getting one too?”
Her: “I was going to.”
Me: “Well, I guess that’s okay then…”
So, by womanly fiat, it looks like I’m going to have to start wearing even scruffier clothes, and start smoking weed. Which will probably improve my outlook on life, but I doubt it’ll help my chances with getting a job.
