Congratulations on Taking It Like a Champ!

When you show up in the middle of her shift, Cherry’s face will light up. Then she’ll catch your gaze flitting between her and Carl, the three hundred and twenty pound bus-boy from Papua New Guinea, and her glowing smile will collapse into a despaired frown.

“Oh no,” she’ll say, shaking her head.

“Oh yes!” you’ll cry, shaking your bike helmet at her. “Did you really think you could get away with this?”

She’ll rush to your side and place her hands on your chest, cooing at you in a way that threatens to erode your rage. “But honey,” she’ll demure, “you know I never could resist a lil’ taste of brown sugar.”

You’ll steel yourself and push her away.

“He’s three hundred god damn pounds, my dear!” you’ll say, before you realize it’s insensitive and make an apologetic gesture to Carl. “Sorry,” you shout at him across the restaurant.

“No,” he’ll shout back. “Totally deserved under the circumstances.” You’ll nod.

Cherry will roll her eyes and throw her money belt in the general direction of the kitchen before she walks up and taps you one in the nuts. You’ll go down like a sucker but you won’t cry, which is impressive because Cherry used to do Golden Gloves in high school.

As your eyes roll in the back of your head you’ll smile to yourself, thinking that this still went way better than your breakup with Cheryl Crowe.

Congratulations on Taking It Like a Champ!