Vodkacoolerville

“So there we were with our lawn chairs arranged in a big circle in this douche-bag’s back yard.” Tom scratched the bridge of his nose and scowled into the middle distance. He felt like an idiot for dragging his wife on a GO train to attend his co-worker’s barbeque. Life was far too short for this sort of thing.
     “And no one talked to you for the whole time?” Kim smiled, incredulous.
     “No. Nobody knew us so they weren’t interested. They just ate their hamburgers and talked about the Bass Pro Shop.”
     “Mississauga?”
     “Yep.”
     “French manicures?”
     “On the women, yes.”