Just a cognitive disconnect. . .

Don't even pretend like this hasn't happened to you.

It happened to me the other night....um kinda--he "claims" it was a, how you say, a butt call.

Keep your phone outta your panties, man.

I ought to have said that to him.  HAHA can you imagine if I did?

Welllllllllll . . . . .

I made it to D.C.

I feel like I'm kind of sharting myself from being here. . . or I have separation anxiety. . . or both.

I'm on my own. . . for reals, like a grown up.

I intend to make a list of all my strange encounters with the D.C.

Here's to the first one. . . . .

#1) Money sucker and cognitively disconnected to humor.

Everything is so fetching expensive here.  I went to a movie with a friend of mine and her friends, and I decided I was like, starving.  So I stood in the snack bar line for a wiener.  I get up to the front and this teenage boy is like, "Yo, what you want?" (more on that later.)  I looked up at the menu and saw that the wieners were 8 bucks....k fine 7.50

Hold the phone.  Their pigs must be poopin golden nuggets for an 8 buck wiener I thought.

I said back, "Um your hotdogs cost a firstborn, don't they?" (He didn't get it.)  "Sorry, I just moved here today, and the dogs out from where I'm from are like 3 bucks."

He said, "Oh you moved out here today and you're going to a movie?"

I said, "Ya.  That's what I do when I move to a new city by myself with no friends.  I find that the dark black theater really calms me down.  You should try it sometime."

Cue awkward courtesy laugh from popcorn butter stained polo behind counter.

Here's your coke zero, and enjoy the movie.....

They say adolescents don't understand sarcasm until mid puberty.  Let's hope they're right.