paper and hit her between the eyes. She huffs as I say, “It’s my straw wrapper. Can you please undo the calamity that is your mammary, take a seat, and finish your turn?” Eyes on fire, a fierce pinch to her brow, she puts a hand on the table and leans into me. “What did you just say to me?” Nervously laughing, I play with my water glass and say, “I, uh, asked you to calm your tits, you know, adjust your bust before it combusts.”
