Tis a rare occasion when the women in my life lead me right to the doorstep of making questionable decisions. And I bask in it when it does happen. Y was the one who wanted to reach out to Q and now I'm the bad guy when Q reaches out to me. Life, yo.
On Friday night:
Me: That's her? Damn
Y: Don't sleep with her.
Me: I don't remember her being-
Y: Don't sleep with her.
Me: But I'm just saying-
On Friday night:
Me: That's her? Damn
Y: Don't sleep with her.
Me: I don't remember her being-
Y: Don't sleep with her.
Me: But I'm just saying-
*grabs my face and stares directly into my eyes*
Y: Do. Not. Sleep with her.
==========
And then the next day:
Me: She did text me wanting to hang before we leave but I'm exhausted.
Y: Don't text back
Me: Why not?
Y: Because when you left the table, she started talking about how you'd grown up to be a looker. Then she asked if we'd hooked up, which was so gross.
Me: Hmm...
Y: ...You're gonna sleep with her, aren't you?
Me: How dare you! I would never! Do you think she'd be interested?
Y: *sigh*
Me: This is your fault, you know.
Y: How dare you! I know it is! Shut up!
Y: Don't text back
Me: Why not?
Y: Because when you left the table, she started talking about how you'd grown up to be a looker. Then she asked if we'd hooked up, which was so gross.
Me: Hmm...
Y: ...You're gonna sleep with her, aren't you?
Me: How dare you! I would never! Do you think she'd be interested?
Y: *sigh*
Me: This is your fault, you know.
Y: How dare you! I know it is! Shut up!
