Last night

I needed an easily digestible movie, after the day’s scorcher. So, there! shampoo and rinse, but don’t repeat. Totally different from my previous choice.

Anyways, half way into the movie, Mr Stinkie seated himself next to me and started scratching and fretting like he had scabies, fleas, or both. I have painfully endured all this, and even his rudimentary attempt to start some sort of conversation. But when he started to touch himself I had to take myself to the other end of the theater. On the way back home, it seemed like the all subway was looking at me as if I was not aware of something really obvious to the rest of them.

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