Glass Ceiling

What? No way!”

“Well, I did buy dinner.”

“I don’t care if it was a four-diamond meal at the top of the Eiffel Tower, let alone this diner. I said ‘no’!”

“Aw, c’mon. Don’t play that hard-to-get crap. It’s the second date.”

“Get-to-know-you coffee is hardly a ‘date,’ and it’s not crap! I said no and I meant it! Gawd, that’s just low, to say something like that.”

“Baby, we both know you girls are only on that site for one thing—”

“Don’t ‘Baby’ me, and it’s a dating site, not some bullshit bootycall—”

“You should be glad I bothered to buy you dinner, first.”

“You seriously think… No, you don’t. You don’t think at all. I can’t believe I’m even bothering to argue with you about this. I’m leaving.”

“Hey, you have to drive me back to my place—”

“You can walk, jackass.”

“Hold on a sec—”

“Let go!”


“And you can drip dry on the way, you handsy jerk.”

“I can’t believe you just did that!”

“He’s going to need a few extra napkins,” I informed the hostess on my way out the door.

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