He was wearing an Obama shirt, my dad saw us together, walked up, and started grilling him on his political beliefs.
Suffice it to say he left after that.
Don’t ask what I’m wearing. I wore a lot of questionable outfits back then.
I wish we said “fancy” in America. As in, “I fancy you.” It’s such a more agreeable term than “I have a crush on you.” What’s a crush? Like, I AM A BOA CONSTRICTOR AND I AM GOING TO IMMOBILIZE YOU WITH MY MISPLACED AND OBSESSIVE AFFECTION. “I fancy you” is like, you’re so shiny and glittery and I just want to put you on a shelf and look at you for a while ‘cause you’re fancy.