



I saw Brian last night. Lucky you. He looked like shit. Felt so bad, he could hardly get out of bed. I’m sorry to hear that, but it really doesn’t concern me any more. That’s bullshit.
- “Uh, I was in the neighborhood. Uhm, you left this at my place.”
- His place? I didn’t know you were getting laid. Good for you! I’m his mother.
- Yes. I remember.
- Oh. He remembers me.
- You’re a little hard to forget.