Why don't you wind the cord around your finger like you're at a slumber party and you want to coordinate your outfit for Friday's dance with your BFF? Don't pay attention to me sitting here or anything. God, why did I agree to go out with this guy?
By the way, you're dangerously close to having a ball pop out of your tennis shorts. Quit waving your testes around like you own this fucking place.
"Why, yes, I'll have another whiskey on the rocks. This time, make it a double. Thanks."
*taps ring against the glass impatiently and rolls eyes*
via Ned Hepburn