"I like your style," I overheard one hair dye junkie say to another.
It was at that moment that I realised vanity is a sucker's game, a game for two, and it makes you sink so low. Being next in line, I approached the customer service girl.
"This is gonna hurt like hell," I said.
She stared at me in mute confusion.
"I have to return this sweater," I explained, placing a blue sweater on the counter between us.
A shared laugh, an unseen spark.
Little did she know, within a week we'd be sharing a bed, and within two, our break-up would not be pleasant.
Some people have said that I have a way with words; I just think that I don't make any sense and that's why girls dig me.
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