“I’ll carry it for you,” he grunts. “So you can dump the drinks over my head once I turn my back to you? Not a chance. I can carry them myself.” “I’m tryin’ to be nice.” “Well, you’re doing a terrible job. Leave me alone.” He closes his eyes, inhaling deeply before opening them again. “You’ll be lucky not to trip in those boots.” “I’d rather trip than be pushed by you. Seriously, go away.”
