Jogged out for a pack of smokes during my coffee break (thinking about smoking a few times a day, get a nice mid-day rush and maybe talk to Alice about the breeze) and you WILL NOT BELIEVE who was at the gas station.

Rachel. My ex. Haven’t seen her since we tear gassed her at Karl’s wedding, or it may have been at a dinner we had at Spaghetti Factory, I can’t pinpoint the last time and the dinner may have been a hallucination.

She was bustling some high school kids at the Red Box for singles, and I tried to help her grift by saying they should give it to her because colleges look favorably on charity work.  She must not have seen my winking, because she screamed at me to mind my business then swiped one of the kids backpacks and ran into traffic.  

Waited around 20 minutes for her to comeback so we could split the score, but she didn’t show and I heard sirens after 10 minutes and took off.  Panic move, but probably the right one.

Didn’t even get the cigarettes, and I feel like I need one now, you guys.