Buon Natale, Part I

I walked in and immediately locked eyes with a tall, dapper, very attractive Italian man. “Buonasera,” the workers greeted me in unison. “Parla Inglesse?” I asked as my eyes scanned the clusters of staffers behind the counter. Mr. Dapper leapt up and responded enthusiastically, “yes, I do!” FABULOUS. I’m so happy I washed my hair today.

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¿Tienes Plan B?

I might have the sperm of a German named Flo swimming around inside of me and I need to handle it stat. My friends put me in a cab and to the farmacia I went, a makeshift walk up counter on the side of the road in the pueblo where I attempted to explain in broken Spanish that I was going to need their equivalent of Plan B as seven men in line looked on.

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Swiped Out