June 23, 2010
Today in the diner you made your wife cry, big man. She wasn't crying when you came in; indeed, she was laughing and appeared quite at ease (I remember because she tossed her thick auburn hair in a way I found quite fetching) so you can't tell me someone just died and thus the tears. No, big man, from several tables away, I heard the low hum of your conversation turn into a rumble. All I could see was the back of your head, and even that looked menacing. And your fist pounding on the table was a charming touch.