Re: The Cat: Patrick G/MJ W
[Man, Patrick was desensitized. Sorry, sorry, pretty girl. She was pretty, dude, and no doubt. She was the kind of hot that made dudes drool, as aforementioned. But, Patrick was a firm believer in not objectifying, and that was just how it was. So, he leaned on the counter and gave her a smile that was entirely open. His eyes were light green, and they crinkled at the corners from smiling, even with his relatively low numeric value.] No way, no way, ankles are mega-intimate. Wrists? Wrists are worse than kneecaps, man, and you hardly have anything worse than kneecaps. [He laughed, and he smiled that Gunster smile.] Destiny. She wears these spangly glittery things. [Dude motioned to his ear and wriggled his fingers in a most descriptive glittery gesture.]
Hey, Mr. Johnson's offended. [Another wink.] Man, no, you can't call a guy's pecker Magic. That's just creating some serious expectations. Majorly unattainable, and then there won't be any magic at all, if you know what I mean. [He waggled a brow, and he plucked the orange from the rim of the glass and sucked it between his teeth, and he had to smack his lips a few times and take a swallow of the beer before talking again.] All right, so I'm a fan of the raccoons, but don't tell Smokey, and Con knows I drink beer, but she likes to count them on me. I'm Patrick. You're MJ, and you're not local. I know everyone from around here. [He took another sip.] How long have you been in our fine neck of the woods?