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Your pride atleast keeps you in your apartment.  The last thing you need is to go make this situation any worse.  You take another long pull from the green bottle and slump back into your chair.  You finish off one bottle and grab another from the fridge, medicating your seriously damaged ego.  The warmth of the alcohol seems to be taking the edge off a bit.  You feel your shoulders start to relax a little.  Maybe this won't be so bad.  Maybe this is just what I needed to kick my ass into gear.  


   You phone suddenly vibrates wildly, shaking you from your deep contemplation.  It's your friend Jen, begging you to play wingman to her unfortunate third wheel.  She starts to tell you all the redeeming qualities possessed by this gem of a man but you could really care less.  As you are talking, a picture comes over your messages.  He is pretty damn hot, you'll have to admit that.    You agree to meet up with her.  God knows you need a you NEED drinks!   Lots and lots of drinks.  And the company of a fine looking man will just be a bonus.  


   You sway alcoholically into the bathroom and spruce yourself up, throwing on a little extra mascara and eyeliner along with some red lipstick.  You shuffle through your basket of clean clothes and throw on a pair of sexy jeans and a black top.  You head out the door.  Ready to blow off some steam and drown the memories of the day in a tall glass of something evil.  

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