I don't get it.
Tony,(sushi boy), you confuse me sometimes. What do you want with me? You are a Hugo Boss underwear model (not really, I'm trying to use similes and metaphors) and I'm just a Sears polo shirt model. I'm plain, you know? You are cultured. Worldly.
And here I am. As plain as can be (hardly) with no clue of anything. Ever.
And outside we walk, together, you towering over me by 9 or 10 inches, looking all beautiful and I know you know it.
I know it.
And I walk along. Trying to look somewhat coordinated. Trying to look remotely in tune and confident in my awkward little skin. Trying not to to melt at the sight of you.
I'm so shallow.
Yet I'm drowning in it.
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