Dear stain on my pants,
Come on, man. You are making me
look like a fool in front of Debby. She
was loving my story about the Battle of
Agincourt until she saw you lounging
on my upper thigh. I tried to save the
moment by reciting Goethe and playing
the recorder at the same time, but it was
useless. I think you ruined something
magical.
—A man who is blind to his own red flags
