When I write these stories down, they make me laugh, too. It's therapeutic. Sort of.
The more I think about this one, though, the less depressed I feel about it. Because after all, why did she fucking stick her hand out at me if she didn't want it to be shaken? Right?
Who does that? Why do I always get the weird ones?
Hey, at college, I had a girl tell me I looked like "that guy who played Frankenstein," (I guess meaning Boris Karloff, although does it really fuckin matter which one she meant??) and I went (with as much sarcasm as humanly musterable) "GEE, THANKS A LOT! ! !" and she starts backpedaling, "No, I mean without the makeup..." but it was waaaay too late for backpedaling.
