Piggy Guy

piggy guy

There’s this guy at work who talks to me. I don’t like him that much because he seems kind of like a gross pig.

At the end of the work day today he asked, “Don’t you freeze, delivering outside in those jeans?”

“Oh no. I finished early, went home and changed.”

“Nice. So now you can go straight to the club, eh? Friday night, club night.”

“Yeah. That’s right,” I said.

“Just take off the old mail jacket and you’re ready for the club. Nice! Heh.”

I smiled politely. “Exactly.”

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