“Zack, is your shirt written in Chinese?”
— Andrew, 100% serious.
We had been drinking.
That moment when you’re texting with the guy you went out with last week, and he keeps referencing things you talked about, but you don’t remember any of them because you were WAY too drunk.
Kid: “Do they put bars on the windows at school so no one will jump out of them?”
Me: “Well, I think it’s more to prevent accidents, but yes, it would also prevent someone from jumping.”
Kid: “Yeah that’s like some of my mom’s patients [her mom is a psychiatrist]. But I can’t talk about that. I’m not allowed to.”
Me: “I totally understand.”
Kid: “Yeah. Like, I definitely can’t talk about the man who tried to jump out his window.”
Me: “Ok, then don’t.”
Kid: “He didn’t actually do it, though.”
Me: “Well I’m very glad to hear that.”
Kid: “Yeah.” (pause) “Or like the woman who drinks too much. I’m definitely not supposed to talk about her.”
Me: “Got it. Then let’s not talk about it.”
Kid: “Ok. Yeah, I can’t. It’s a secret.”
Kid: “She drinks wine in the morning.”
Today I wanted to run:
Instead, I ran: