In this day and age, who the hell still leaves hickeys on people over the age of sixteen. SERIOUSLY?! I was walking down the street, making a latte run, when I ran into a friend I hadn't seen in forever. I love New York for that by the way. On this little stretch of island, you can run into people in the most random places, j'dore NYC....sorry, back to the story. I was chatting with her, playing a good game of catch up when she craned her neck and ogled mine. "Girl, do you have hickeys?" My response, "Huh?" She points out that the left side of my neck is in fact covered with three nice little love bites (which I will refrain from calling them that in this situation because I'm gonna murder who left them behind). I wish I could've confirmed her first question of whether it was the guy I was dating the last time I saw her. Nope. She laughed, knowing my antics. Instead, I had to remember that I broke a cardinal rule and made out with someone from my job. Someone who won't leave me alone now. And someone who apparently didn't get the memo that hickeys are for seventh graders sneaking make out sessions on the polyester sofa in the basement. Nothing but hoodies and collared shirts for the next few days. Break out the cold spoons. I'm too old for this sh*t...
That bitch stole my line,