Dine and Dash

Musketeers dinner tonight. Don't worry, I showered and smelled delightful thanks to a generous spritz of Taylor Swift Wonderstruck. Yes, I think I Wonderstruck quite a few people tonight.

Dinner was a brief affair besides the inevitable fried ice cream (quickly becoming a recurrent theme in our dinners). Most of the time, we parked outside the local IGA and got Little Mishelle pregnant, the little skank.

We told secrets. I sang Ronan Keating to Big Michelle while she rejected my advances. I don't know what I'm doing wrong. They say you're supposed to show physical touch to show you like the person, right? I tried gentle stroking, hair playing, playful smacking on the arm/arse and all I got was a big fat, "GET OFF ME, BITCH." It's like sometimes I don't even know her. She might as well be a girl called Grace or something.

We briefly went back to the old stomping grounds (high school) and wandered through the front park area. I was, of course, the most anxious that there was some violent hobo about to jump out of the bushes and attack us. Big Michelle was trying to be valiant (or get away from me while I tried to express my affection through physical touch) and was the one who wanted to explore the area. Eventually, I suggested we climb/jump the fence and get in the school. Because what's more fun than running through your old high school at night? Not much.

Of course we did. Run through the school that is. Climbed the fence, ripped my skirt in the process, sprinted through the pathways screaming profanities...

Actually, no. I think I got confused with some movie or something. In the end, they convinced me that there were probably motion sensors (or violent hobos) lurking around and the police would come and how would we explain our tramping through our old high school?

We left. Parked. Got delirious off each other's company then went home.

J