‘Twas the eve of our nation’s birthday, and my state could be described as charmingly sloppy and I was having all kinds of success on the dance floor. In fact, I was so smitten with one particular dancing partner, we traipsed everywhere from the docks near the bar, to the room[s] of the apartment…apart from location, however, the affair was unmemorable, I guess…
The next day at the beach, as my friend and I simultaneously laughed [at the night’s adventures] and cried [at the splitting feeling in our heads], I paused to take in the scenery. I could not believe how incredibly good-looking one particular guy was, and just could not stop talking it! My friend gave me a hard time and told me to stop drooling, which was bizarre, since we usually share the same taste. I asked whether she could honestly tell me that she wasn’t JUST as attracted to the cutie in the hat and sunglasses, but that wasn’t her issue: “seriously?” she said, “you hooked up with him last night.”
Oops! I wasn’t intending to boast, I guess I just didn’t fully recall the conquest. Anyway, while his performance was not memorable, I’m happy to report his appearance was even more delightful than my intoxication had let on!
Cheers to America!
