(no subject)
It's Saturday night, sometime around midnight, and I'm leaning against the kitchen counter at Greg's house.
He's making chickpeas and avocado for dinner. I take a sip of water and set my glass on the counter.
"I don't think you ever told me what you thought of Alex after you met him that weekend. I mean, I know you didn't have a ton of time to hang out with him, but from what you did see, what were your thoughts, impressions, ideas...?"
Greg stirs the chickpeas on the stove. He's not in a rush to answer. After a moment, he walks over and stands next to me. He looks at me and says, "He's perfect. Don't fuck it up. Marry this guy."
He's making chickpeas and avocado for dinner. I take a sip of water and set my glass on the counter.
"I don't think you ever told me what you thought of Alex after you met him that weekend. I mean, I know you didn't have a ton of time to hang out with him, but from what you did see, what were your thoughts, impressions, ideas...?"
Greg stirs the chickpeas on the stove. He's not in a rush to answer. After a moment, he walks over and stands next to me. He looks at me and says, "He's perfect. Don't fuck it up. Marry this guy."