ITS NOT A TACO BELL, JIM.

So it was one of the super fancy ones. Nice.

The last time I went to a Waffle House, our waitress was smoking a cigarette while serving us.

Super busy on a Sunday morning, couple walks in and asks about the wait and the hostess told them, and I quote, “I dunno. Depends on how fast people eat. “

She has a tattoo on her forearm that says “This shit has to end.”

I love her.

Why does the air constantly feel like warm water?

"A wave crashed on her rock that she coyly called 'Bobbyrox,' sending up a fine salty mist that glazed her vertiginous décolletage. Was this a Pultizer in my future I was feeling? Nope, just a boner. Looking down, yup, boner. Later we shared the vape stick. It tasted like Skittles and sadness."

Oh, shit, it got worse:

"She steered the Mustang onto a patch of dirt on the side of the road and put on a black leather jacket that she pulled from the back seat. The rock she loved was at the edge of a vertiginous cliff, where water rolled and crashed."

I should add that I've lived within walking distance of the Pacific Ocean my entire life and I have yet to settle on my "favorite rock." But then, I'm probably more discerning than someone who wanted to fuck a guy who drives around with a dead bear cub in his car trunk

I'm just super picky that way

You'll get over it.