[I waved. I’m all excited and happy.]
Her: “Oh I already like you. Mmm hmm. You sweet. I can tell.”
[and, black women remain by far the most likely to instantaneously connect on that next level. I usually don’t make any comments on race {see my former social construct disclaimer} but once again, yep.]
Me: “What kinda music you like?” Her: “Anything with a beat.” Me: “Oh yeah I got you…”
[Nicolay followed by Gwen Stefani’s Hella Good, which she hadn’t heard]
Me: “Oh I think you’re gonna like this – early 2000s antics. MySpace days and shit.”
She has a 2 year old daughter.
She was with his father for 10 years but no more, and now she’s much happier.
She doesn’t like baking; doesn’t like measuring.
I told her about ruining brownies because I thought “Sure, grapeseed oil must be like vegetable oil?”
Nope.
I wish the ride had been a lot longer.
She’s another energy generator perk you up radiant preson.
I already miss her.