Omar:I’m lonely. I’m tired of hooking up all the time.
Parker:Well then, is this just timing?
Parker:Like, you’re starting to feel this way, and there he is, all hot and hitting your buttons?
No. I shake my head and type out the words before I have a chance to think about them.
Omar:I think he’s maybe the reason why I’m feeling this way.
Oh, fuck.
Parker:Oh, fuck.
Parker:Sorry, sober me would have been a little more circumspect about that.
Omar:Aaaand now I panic.
Parker:
Parker:No panicking.
Easier said than done.
Parker:Look, you did the hard part—you told someone.
It’s true. Telling her is making feel better. Queasy, but better.
Parker:Now you just need to follow your heart.
Parker:PS: That’s the thing beating in the middle of your chest.
Omar:Haaaaa.
Parker:Lest I sound too drunkenly emotional, it’s also your instincts that you’re following.
Parker:It’s the thing you can’t get off your mind.
Parker:The truth you can’t escape.
Omar:Now I’m looking for the camera in my head. You’re creeping me out, lady.
Parker:
Parker:One last thing…
Omar:There’s more!? Be gentle. I might throw up.
Parker:Drama queen.
Parker:It’s OK to be led by your brain stem on this one.
Parker:Don’t worry about your higher functions.
Parker:Or what’s smart.
Parker:Pretend to be Anders, just this once.
Omar:*crackling noise* I’m sorry, you’re going out. It sounds like you just said to be like Anders. Please repeat.
