"No one would read it," I told him.
"I would," he replied.
To which I said, "I was born to a middle class family on Long Island. I had three birthday parties at Hot Skates in Great Neck. Not much of a hook there."
"I have your hook," came his retort. "Are you ready for it?"
"Go on," I sighed, not expecting much.
And then he copied and pasted my own words--words I'd typed to him minutes before--and sent them back to me.
I tell dirty jokes, I don't leave the room to fart, I don't care about designer clothing or being a trophy wife. I clean up really well, but I'm definitely not high society. I'm too scrappy. Oh, and I used to be a slut and I've had sex with women. So there's that.
Perhaps my life is more interested than I'd originally thought.
