“We’re ordering pizza right now. And it better be so oily, we need four towels beneath the box to soak up the stains. And…” I tossed my hands in the air, lighting up like the Rockefeller Center Christmas tree. “…and beers. Shitty, watery college beer.” “Belgian beers,” he countered. I shook my head. “Sorry, you’re gonna slum it up with me today.” “Lovely.” He pressed his mouth into a thin line. “What’s next in my bingo card? A trip to Aldi and a fentanyl overdose?” “Aldi is the shit.”
