As I was returning to the car with a cone in each hand, I tripped over something on the sidewalk and lost my balance. Stumbling and weaving wildly towards the parked car, I fought to keep my balance and save the cones, but I didn’t have a chance. I have often wondered how it looked to that girl inside the car: her date lurching towards her in a wide circle across the street, hunched over, his eyes like saucers, his mouth gaping. He staggers towards the car, then seems to dive at her, his cheek smashing flat against the driver’s window, his head bouncing hard off the glass. He slips from view
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