I ran into Cute Upstairs Girl near the end of last week, and we made plans to go out to lunch today. Her name is, against all odds, Katie. The initial offer was, roughly, that I would treat her to lunch
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I hate it when that happens. You may get the second or third-order effect of knowing someone new, but the moment when you hear the words "my boyfriend" and there's this feeling of "I just learned something bad" followed by the inevitable one-to-two-second-later post-processing of the phrase "my boyfriend" and that momentary internal "damn."
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Still, ouch.
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