I am sure that your hair stylist told you that strategic tossing of your long hair was sexy and would make the guys who drive Porsches hot for you. Unfortunately the advice was sub-optimal, because I do not drive a Porsche, I do not find you attractive, and after the fifth time your hair brushed across my shoulder and neck I began to suspect that you carried fleas and head lice.
And…your little tease of getting up with your overlarge pocketbook (it does not belong on the bar) and walking out was cruel. I was thrilled to think that you were leaving! Alas, you left to do a line, or have a smoke, or floss your teeth with your locks, or whatever….and, unfortunately, returned to toss your hair against me a few more times.
Oh…the stories you loudly proclaimed about your ex boyfriend? They were boring. You aren’t that good looking. And telling him to “pack all of your things” might have been exactly what he was hoping for!