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Crappy Story

I am the one your mother had warned you against. He didn't know what to do next. He was a happy go lucky guy having a nice Friday afternoon in a downtown pub. He had met her on his way to the rest room. She burst out of the ladies giggling at some joke. He was hooked. Maybe it was the half pitcher of beer that was sloshing around in his abdomen that did the trick. He desperately wanted to strike a conversation with her. Every time he made a move, it seemed that the whole pub and its occupants thwarted him. He was at his wits end. That's when he thought of reaching out to her through the bartender. The bartender seemed to have succeeded. He returned with a little piece of paper. He hoped that was her contact number. Looked like she had other plans than to hit it off with a drunken fool. He tried to read the note again. It didn't make any sense. She never knew my mother, so how can my mother warn me about her? His head was hurting from trying to decipher the message. Already two pitchers had disappeared into his body. The alcohol was kicking in slow and steady. He staggered to the restroom again. He saw her again on his way. She didn't look anything like what he saw first. She was different. She was an angel with wings now. She was flying. He wanted to fly too. But a strong hand gripped him from behind and he was flying out of the door. As he lay there on the sidewalk thinking about her, a dog came along and relived itself on his foot. How can you write such crap? The question startled the author. He was just a happy go lucky guy trying to pen a story on a nice Friday afternoon.           

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