“Don’t touch me,” I tell him, ripping my hand away with my last ounce of strength. “And next time you have guests, put on some proper pants. I can practically see the veins in your Johnson. It’s distracting!” He looks down at his groin with alarm, horrified at my description. Satisfied, I escape out into the blizzard, and slam the door behind me, heading quickly for my car.
She might as well have slapped Garland ...OMG
