I got a birthday card for Alex's nephew, and I wrote a poem on it, but I put the wrong name. I felt like shit. Then I was driving Alex around and I noticed he looked a little sheepish. I asked what happened, and he said he peed his pants.
     Then I was at Lincoln Square Mall (the local depressingly deserted mall that I remember from my childhood) and there was an Eddie Bauer. The manager thought I worked there, and she came up to warn me about a lady who was walking around the store and trying to sell "mustaches for lasses". I found a doll who was wearing the same plaid coat that I own. A few minutes after that, the mustaches-for-lasses lady came up to me. I pretended to be interested, and then she told me that an employee named Steve was considering buying one (in order to persuade me, I suppose). I suggested we go over and talk to Steve so I'd be able to slip away and tell the manager. It turned out to be none other than the Steve I regrettably dated a few years ago. I asked him to help me out, and he did. They caught the woman, escorted her out, and then journalists came and took pictures of Steve and me for the paper.

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