My splinter still hurt. Berkeley Bowl bag indeed.
See, Meredith’s not my type. I don’t even know what my type is, but she isn’t it. I like ... longer. Leaner. Maybe that’s my type. The double L’s. But there’s a turning point in your brain when that element of surprise strikes. You look at this person and you say: Nooo. The triple-O is not optional. It’s not merely no, it’s beyond that. Then a funny thing happens and the letters start to hiss. Like when a no becomes a yes. Something like that.
When that happens, watch your ass. You’re going to fall quickly.
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