The woman at the restaurant who took my order asked for my ID when I presented his debit card, and I said, cool as a cucumber, “Oh, it’s not my card, it’s my boyfriend’s, he broke his leg and I have to do, like, everything for him now.” She didn’t even blink before she let me sign the check. Did she notice how much I was glowing inside when I said “my boyfriend”? Fake or not, something about saying “my boyfriend” just felt good.
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