Rosé? Not what I was expecting.

I lost the Benny Lewis book. It’s either at the gym or the post office.

I’m at a bar by my current apartment in Williamsburg, drinking alone. I prefer it this way. Except for the fact that the bartender judged my choice of alcohol (and me). Shut up, bartender.

But really, should I order food?

This is the song playing right now. I can change.

One thought on “Rosé? Not what I was expecting.

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