“How did our pissing contest
over who’s more commitment phobic
turn into you wanting to cook for me?
I thought we weren’t going to do this.”
“Do you or do you not like spaghetti?”
“I fucking hate the shit, it’s the bane of my existence,
don’t get me started. First of all, it has no nutritional value whatsoever, secondly, it’s what poor people eat just to fill their stomachs…also, hey, are you listening to me?
The point is, this is a casual thing.”
“Ok, so let’s casually eat something else, then. This Friday. Just relax, let it happen. I’m not inviting you to a terrorist attack. It’s dinner. You can eat it, it’s good for you. What about burritos, do you like them?”
“Yeah, I guess so.”
“Good, so it’s settled.”
“Ok, love you.”
“Haha, I got you. You should’ve seen your face.”
“You’re hilarious, do you know that? Now shut up and kiss me.”
“Ugh, not today, I don’t feel like it.”