Sam and I took a happily gigantic pile of library graphic novels to the Wallingford Chocolati for an early evening’s munch, slurp and read fest.
The place was packed, so we ended up at the only available table, in the loft in the back.. Which, apparently, is where two-timing Christian girls hang out to skype their dates. It’s not like I was evesdropping, seriously, the woman was talking so loudly the entire room couldn’t help but hear every sordid detail!
She spent a good 20 minutes flirting with the poor fool, assuring him that he wasn’t too old, even if her parental units thought so and then cut him off to greet her arriving posse of study buddies, put her long, carefully tousled tresses up and giggle over whether she should tell the boy she really likes to kiss on about the others.. One of the other girls asked if she was going to tell the boy she’d just got all hot and bothered on skype about her other dates. Her reply? Snort(seriously, a bonafide snort!)! ‘Why? He’s a jerk, he doesn’t deserve to know!’
And then proceeded to talk about going to church in the morning.
Gah. At least the green tea latte was good.