All I wanted today was to watch the documentary on the St. Valentine’s Day Massacre and eat the really awesome spaghetti I’ve heard so damn much about for the past two months.
Then about three weeks ago, I found myself sitting dumbfounded and alone in a bar. With only $2 in my wallet, I trekked the half mile home, drunk and cold.
Benito would have never done that.
Jesus fucksticks, if I am saying that that man would have done the right thing in this hypothetical scenario, the man who was warm in the taxi on his way to the next bar clearly has deficiencies.
No more, I say. No more.
Call it dating’s version of CFC. Call it caring about another person and his or her well being. Call it one day wanting to make him or her feel like the center of your universe.
Whatever your preference, I’m calling this bullshit.