That's what she said

And really, she said it.  Loudly.  At work.

Our director brought donuts in this afternoon.  My gluten-free friend noticed them go by and groaned - donuts were definitely not going to be gluten-free.  I grabbed one and then visited her at her cube.

   "Hey, want a sprinkle?  These might be gluten-free."

   "No."  She tossed my offered sprinkle into the garbage.

   "Fine, I'll leave you alone then."

I started to walk away when I remembered the best part about the donut I'd picked, so I called back over the cube wall:

   "It's filled with Boston Cream!"

And then.

   "Oh my god, just let me suck all the cream out of it for you!"

Needless to say, we were shushed.

Why would you TELL me that?

I was just checking the forecast when I noticed something:

Isn't that the most depressing stat?

Look like moviestar

It was Malcolm's birthday yesterday and to celebrate, we went out for dinner with the fam and some of the usual suspects.  Malcolm and I arrived with mom, while Brodder showed up with LiMonGuy, and Dimps and Nightcrawler rounded our group out.

We'd of course met up for Malaysian food and enjoyed the usual overstuffing of our faces.  While Brodder and LMG had to leave early, the rest of us stuck around, enjoying the shitty (yes, that's literal) conversation that ensued.  Sometime during our chatting, I motioned for the bill, but it never came.  Even when Nightcrawler tried to sneak up to pay for it, he was also presented with nothing.  Puzzled, I got up to interrogate our servers.

   "Can I get the bill for that table, please?" I motioned to where we were sitting.
   "Oh, no bill - paid already," she explained in her broken English.
   "Paid already?  Who paid?"
   "Oh, the handsome one."

I looked back at the table where of all of us, Malcolm was the only male sitting there at the moment.  I motioned to Malcolm to try to get her to clarify.

   "He paid?"
   "Oh no, not him."

Not Malcolm?  Those at the table who had heard giggled.  So then Nightcrawler?  Since he'd returned to the table by then, I motioned to him and asked again.

   "He paid?"
   "Oh no, the handsome one."

Not Nightcrawler either.  We were in stitches by then.

   "He's tall..."
   "Oh, Brodder!  Were there two tall people?"
   "Yes, yes!  Tall.  Handsome!"

Of course - how could I have mistaken Malcolm or Nightcrawler for the handsome ones?