Wednesday Night

It seems like every time my girlfriend and I go out for drinks we end up arguing over something absolutely ridiculous. I like to argue. She gets drunk pretty easily. So it's really inevitable that arguments over things like when to cross the road ensue. Last night went like this:

Her: "I'm hungry."
Me: "Ok. Do you want to see a menu?"
Her: "No. My foot hurts."
Me: "Ok. Do you want to go home?"
Her: "Yes."

***Jump ahead 10 minutes to the final two blocks of our journey. Inserts five or six of the identical exchanges from above into that journey. Remove the questions about the menu and replace it with just an, "Ok."***

Me: "Let's cross here. We have the light."
Her: "No, my foot hurts. Don't touch me. I hate you."
Me: "Ok."

It was a great night out. It made me think of all the things I could have done instead of engaging in the intellectual discourse of the evening.

1. Play GTA IV for like six hours

I have to stop the list because as I write this, two things are happening that need to be described. First, I realized that my list really does end after the bit about playing GTA. Second, the guy who sits three cubes behind has been audibly belching for a few minutes. They're the kind of mouth farts that you get when you've had too much soda with your dinner or when you've eaten just a little too much buffalo chicken pizza. They're not really loud, long, or resonating. They're just little guys that I'm sure he thinks the people around him may or may not hear. We hear them.

One last thing: As I went to type in the awe inspiring title for this post, my browser's autofill gave me "A Barracuda Eating Neil Armstrong." The Bill Brasky Family Crest.