'Oof! Lucy was out last night!' trilled Rebecca when she arrived into work this afternoon. Lucy, slumped over the issue desk and lacking her customary happy glow blinked groggily at her. Who was this perceptive blonde girl? 'What gave me away?' she growled blearily.
'Intuition, mainly. That, and the bar stamp on your hand, the dark circles under your eyes, the aroma of beer off your person and the fact that your clothes look slept in. But my psychic gift confirmed it.'
'Well, it's my birthday on Monday. I'm just warming up.'
'Really? Big age?'
'Extremely. Twenty-two. I am ancient. Positively prehistoric.'
'I'm twenty-five, Lucy.'
'Ah. Right. You wear it well though.'
2 comments:
Happy birthday!! I celebrated mine on Sunday. I am a worthless 29 years old.
Many happy returns. May you be groggy eyed on this day for many, many years to come. The adjective "groggy" actually comes from old seafarin' word for rum (grog). So might I suggest a rum and cucumber juice cocktail for future birthday celebrations: rum to make you groggy and the cucumber so that your eyes look nice despite the hangover. Am I not a font of birthday knowledge and wisdom?
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