A Forest Grows Down There

Manhattan Beach

It was Saturday Night, and the bars were closing.

My patron stepped into my car, wearing those new shorts that show off the lower part of your but cheeks.

She was drunk and upset.

The conversation veered toward how every guy she danced with that night seemed disinterested in her after they bought her a drink at the bar.

I questioned her on how many guys this happened with.

She said,”About 4 guys.”.

After she said that, she got comfortable in the back seat. It was a very unladylike position she took.

I sympathized with her, but didn’t have the heart to tell her to trim her forest of doom, before wearing those shorts…

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A Forest Grows Down There

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