Word: night
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Where to find you on a Saturday night: With soy thin crisps on the 3:15 a.m. shuttle...
...dude go for it—she’s all up ons!” But hear me out. When you’re chilling in the bro-zone, the LAST thing you want is the added pressure of the coquetteishly ambiguous late-night text or in my case, the three or four that inevitably roll in as the evening matures. Yeah you know what I’m talkin’ about! It’s like, how do I respond to that? I got too many demands, ladiez, to spend my time navigating that mine-field...
Most Sunday mornings, the first thing I do is frantically check my phone and scroll through my history from the night before to discover who I textually harassed. That’s right, textually harassed. I admit that I am, like so many others out there, a textual harasser. No matter how hard I try, I just can’t stop. I’ve tried erasing certain guys’ numbers...
from my phone or even not having my phone with me all night, but I always end up writing some sloppy, embarrassing...
Look at our last names. All right, welcome back to this paragraph. You know what kind of guys we are. We probably slick our hair back and eat spaghetti at home EVERY NIGHT. “Mamma mia,” right? Looks like we just found a bigot...