Good evening, Miss Ross. You do know which bar you walked into. I know you're covered by the national health service, but try to avoid looking at any one side of the room longer than you must.
I wait. Smile plastered on my face, biding my time until what she really said catches up to my overactive imagination. Thirty seconds later and this is starting to feel like a game of who will blink first.
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"Who's Hugh?" It's the only thing I can think of.
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