what ever, david.

We met him on a train.

In the lounge car.

I was talking in a bizarre accent and told him my name was Penny.

Actually, I told him my name is Halee, but I said it in that bizarre accent and he thought I said Penny.

I went with it.

To him, I was Penny.

What ever.

He asked us to play a game with dots on a piece of paper. Each person takes turns connecting dots. The object of the game is to make squares.

He had already made the dots, guessed we wouldn’t say no.

I made the most squares.

I won the game.

But that’s not important.

What ever.

He told us his name is David, and we believed him.

He was not a deceptive man.

Or was he?

What ever.

He had nice hands and I liked that.

Was wearing soft cotton.

Said he likes to fish, drink beer and shoot stuff.

Not living things, just stuff. All sorts of stuff.

Anything that constitutes itself as stuff, he shoots.

I liked that too, I guess.

What ever.

He is a 26-year old cement layer in the oil fields of North Dakota.

A man who lays cement.

What ever.

I asked him about the strippers and he said there are none.

Maybe he was trying to be polite or something, because I know there are strippers there.

He also likes do drive around. “You know, go out for a cruise,” he said.

A simple man.

Admirable.

He had a sweet giggle and kind eyes.

And I liked that.

What ever.

oilll

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