"You know what I'm thinking right now?" the cabbie asked me.
"You're thinking: What I wouldn't do for a cigarette!" I guessed.
“How are you, Avigail?” my driving teacher asked, full of good cheer.
“Tired!” I said, grumpily.
And why shouldn’t I be? It was 8:30 pm after all, the time of evening that any decent person would be home, having a lie down after a long day at work.
In retrospect, the Holocaust documentary for Date #2 maybe wasn't such a good idea.
I mean, I’m becoming a caricature of myself.
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