I was always late. I swaggered up to her that morning, sweaty from the rush, and acted as if I'd done nothing wrong.
For some reason, that simple act of tardiness proved to be the last straw. She simply walked away. She never contacted me again and, except for one drunken phone call, I never contacted her.
I ordered scrambled eggs, sausage, and orange juice. I hate orange juice.
Monday, March 31, 2008
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