I'll pay for you, anytime.

I had way, way too much to drink last night. The details are a bit hazy, but I do remember a lovely boy quite adamant in his affection for me. Oh, I don't think he crossed any line. He was a perfect gentleman really, but he seemed certain that if he kept buying me drinks, he'd have my phone number. These Texan boys are something else, entirely. I suppose I took a bit advantage. For all his loveliness, his interest was fruitless. I could just tell he was ready to profess undying love for me, and I can't have a puppy dog following me around in public.

Anyway, the music was just dreadful and I have an awful headache this morning. Fortunately, I wasn't driving. Probably if had been I would have been too sober to tolerate that boy's advances. I think his name was Louis. Or maybe Lewis. I counted two scars on the back of his right hand. I'm sure he hardly knows they are there, but take note young men, no matter how taut your arms may be, I won't be touched by mistreated hands. You may be lithe and have your hair cut short exactly how I like it, but the details are really what I pay attention to.

Oh well, I'm probably drumming up business for manicurists everywhere as my many internet stalkers read this. Yes, I know all about you. I can see the statistics right here in front of me. Don't think that will help you at all. Obsessing over the public details of my life is an automatic disqualification. Lewis, or Louis, at least you knew not to shorten your name to Lewie or something so atrocious, perhaps you can pay for me again sometime.