A Gentleman Is Simply A Patient Wolf
TIG: Where are you?
Dragons: I just got home. Why?
TIG: Great. You've an early finish. Then let's do something tonight.
Dragons: *punches phone, returns to ear* Are you kidding me? Yesterday when we had this conversation, you were all 'I'm busy Tuesday.'
TIG: Well, I am busy. I have to price a job at a house in Duncraig. But you can come with. I'll take you with me.
Dragons: *blinks* I'm sorry, did you just invite me to come WATCH YOU WORK?
TIG: *persuasive voice* Come on! Come to work with me. Come ooooooon. Comeoncomeoncomeoncomeon.
Dragons: Oh, for fuck's sake...
TIG: *exasperated, incredulous laugh* Oh Jesus. We are doomed. DOOMED. Can you try and muster just a LITTLE enthusiasm? This is only week two, lady.
Dragons: God, it feels longer than that.
TIG: It does, doesn't it?
Dragons: Because you're INFURIATING.
TIG: I'M infuriating? Feckin' hell. Excuse me, but that is rich. Sweetheart, you are the most difficult, stubborn, bitch I have ever met.
Dragons: *stops, smacks phone off wall several times* Hello? Hello? Pot? This is Kettle. Are you receiving, over?
TIG: *shouts* Get in your car!
Dragons: FINE. But if I drive all the way across town and we spend all night measuring gutters, you are a deadman.
Credit where credit's due, though, there was a beach and a stone wall and some spectacular french kissing once he was done measuring crap.
When I sent him a wake-up text this morning, he responded with this:
I'm already at work with a set of plans in front of me alot less complicated than the doll reading this text. Have a good day. TIG.
I honestly can't decide if this man drives me crazy, or if he...well, drives me crazy. *puts gun in mouth, pulls trigger*
In other news...it's officially time for some accountability before I die of the tardy.
The Lee - Chapter Ten
*claps hands* Let's get this ferret in the blender, shall we, and start pressing some buttons.