It’s 22°C. Skin is in the air.
And a group of St. Patrick’s Day revelers (according to wikipedia, it should be on 17th, but I’m not complaining), with green tops, short green skirts, and all the curves that you haven’t seen for so many months now.
The one in front of me in the McD queue tells her friend: “this is the point where I entertain you,” and stuffs her entire fist into her mouth.
Meanwhile, today is the first day in months that I’ve gone out in T-shirt. I felt so naked when all those women were drooling over my biceps. Sigh.