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Getting Out

I was more F than A or C, but any way you look at it, I was an AFC. An Average Frustrated Chump. I had a crush on a girl named Renee, who lived on my floor in the dorm.

For weeks I lived in agony, wondering if she liked me. I'd make subtle hints and get back subtle responses which weren't nearly conclusive enough for me to do anything about it.

Things came to a head on Friday night. I had to ask her. Not in person, of course. On AIM.

So, you want me to shoplift it...?

On SEBASTIAN MARSHALL

Ah, the joys of being mildly unreasonable.

I found a neat little shop with some great shirts, suit jackets, and gloves that all had a nice design and fit me perfectly. I wasn't going in to get a lot of stuff, but their pieces were really cut just perfectly right for me. I picked a lot of stuff out to buy.

When I was checking out shirts and jackets, I wanted to see how one would look with a tie. I picked up a nice skinny black tie off a display mannequin and put it on. Verdict: The shirt looks good with a tie. But hey, this tie is pretty nice too. But there's no price on it. Hmm...

I go to check out, and the girl explains to me that the tie is only for sale with a particular shirt - it comes with that shirt. That shirt, however, is ugly and expensive. They don't sell the tie standalone.

She keeps trying to take it from me and put it back on the mannequin. I say, "No. Look, I want the tie. How much for it?"

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