"the coffee at maggiano's was pretty shitty. it tasted like dirt. just foul." oh. "yeah, dinner was 430 bucks altogether. so good." 430? for how many people? "let's see," he counts with his fingers, "eight. eight people. a lot of the bill was for wine that we were drinking all night." extravagant, high class. "it was worth it though, my girlfriend closed the deal with those guys meaning she's already made 8000 so far this month. minimum." he acts impressed. "but she'll probably make around 20 for december"
i vomit about the room, stumbling over integrity. responsibility seems to exist, only now it's on the floor getting in my way again. the answer to infection is here.
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