Me: I still haven’t gotten a ticket from that time I accidentally drove through the Fast Track toll lane in Indiana.
Him: You will.
Me: You think? It’s been awhile.
Him: Yep. They’ll contact the rental car company to figure out it was you, and then send it to you.
Me: That pisses me off, the signs weren’t lit at all. I had no idea I was in the wrong lane until I was right up on it; it’s not like I could turn around. Maybe I could write an “I’m from out of state” letter.
Him: Right. “I’m from California and I was STOH-ONED. Maybe if you light the signs and make them flash, then maybe I’ll notice them.”
Me: Shut up.
Me: Whoa! Check that out.
Him: Somebody needs to give that girl a sandwich.
Me: What’s up, Halter Top? She’s definitely wearing last night’s clothes. Walk of shame, baby.
Him: That’s a total walk of shame. She’s even walking sore.
Me: I think her clogs are bugging her.
Him: Or she just stopped having sex twenty minutes ago. Now she has to go to work wearing that. She’s looking for a company T-shirt anywhere she can find one.