Fireball on a Sunday – A Missed Connection
On the off chance that this ever reaches the handsome young man in the dark blue pick up who purchased beer and Fireball from a complete idiot (namely me) last Sunday, I just want to say that I’m so, so sorry. I did not intend to be so rude. I’m generally not one to make excuses and I accept responsibility for my actions and mistakes. I’m not usually so dense, or so ungracious. You are one of the most charming and delightful customers I have ever served. I do, however, feel compelled to at least attempt to explain myself…
Your suggestion that we hang out together sometime came right out of left field and the resulting concussion upon impact with my unprepared and aged brain left me incapable of processing the veracity of the proposition. I mean why on earth would a handsome young man like yourself want to hang out with a middle-aged woman like me? That and the fact that I was secretly fantasizing about touching your impeccable beard, kind of left me incapable of conjuring a coherent response. Thus the crazed babbling that ensued!
This does not excuse my appalling behaviour. I can only beg your forgiveness. Should you come across this plea, it would be my humble honour to apologize in person. Next time you are in need of beer and/or Fireball… Well, you know where to find me.