The ticket stabber Wants to Make Friends. Sitting swimming Mouths open, taking Starving Chirping for chips. Stuff your fucking mouths. There’s a mortal moment, everyone will know very intimately, whether it was worth it. This shift is turning into a hostage crisis. We’re all going to die. I’m a shitty negotiator.
Never trust a man who wears a suit to the bar.
That smiling face… whether you deign to speak at it or not, there’s a thousand razor-sharp barbs behind those little teeth. Those dull little eyes hold a vocabulary that would surprise. Oh, shit, she’s capable of more than a, “Table for two?” Her mind wanders as your eyes rove- oh she’s got an opinion of…
Be professional. Don’t give people your time or money who do not deserve it.