you can’t take me places

Last night, I arm wrestled a Secret Service Agent and kicked a police dog.

This is barely hyperbolic.

In my defense (no, I wasn’t drinking; THIS IS ME), I didn’t know the man was a Secret Service agent when I commenced some grab-assery and the dog was asking for it. -he was lying down and his human partner was like WOT?! WOT?! I went to take a step closer in the crowded security checkpoint and trampled Fido. For reals. Fido, btw, couldn’t be bothered. He hurrumphed and moved. His human partner was less than amused. The Secret Service agent could be my new boyfriend. He was cute. 

As soon as said agent walked out of earshot everybody was like GIRL! You done grabbed a SSA! I was like, “That dude? NAH!” Then they explained what I thought the earpiece and badge was about. Then closer to Hillary coming onstage, he was onstage with the Union members, telling them stuff like don’t grab her.

Or so I assume, given my proclivities. Seriously, I think he dug me. People probably take him too seriously and haven’t we all heard they hang out at Hooters?


One thought on “you can’t take me places

I like it when you talk to me

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