Lately I have been sitting on the floor of my shower a lot. I lay back and let the steamy, hot water wash away the dried sticky soda, spilled buffalo sauce and unwanted cooties from horny old Server Assistant that likes to rub his balls on my leg. (For the record he rubs his balls on everyone. He is also an extremely skilled dancer, but this is irrelevant for now.)
I stare at the wall or shut my eyes to feel the day melt off of me so I can think. Think about my own thoughts – not about how many potstickers come in an order or about how your super fat kid needs a cup of free cherries RIGHT NOW or he is going to fucking explode and take the rest of Disney World with him.
When all the bullshit (including the…
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