If that was staring back out of your mirror, I'd be booking a flight to the sultinate post-haste.
Related confession: Three drinks into an evening many years ago at a bar of ill repute, I cruised a cute number across the bar...and then realized I was actually cruising myself in the mirror behind the bar. Sadly, I still went home with him.
Dear Mr. Cary Grant can be forgiven a moment's narcissism. Were that what was staring back at me in the mirror, I'm not sure I'd ever leave the house.
If that was staring back out of your mirror, I'd be booking a flight to the sultinate post-haste.
ReplyDeleteRelated confession: Three drinks into an evening many years ago at a bar of ill repute, I cruised a cute number across the bar...and then realized I was actually cruising myself in the mirror behind the bar. Sadly, I still went home with him.