Unfortunately, we were both the human equivalents of melted ice at the bottom of a cooler previously filled with beer, dreams and the empty promise of a good time.
I was tired from putting on the performance of my life, and he was tired from all the normals he'd had to speak to.
I had no desire to impress or pretend to be interested in anything that wasn't sleep -- or pizza, or a burrito, or both at the same time -- which is a shame, because this gentleman was like a surprisingly nice dessert section in a really bad buffet.
I could still tell he had a great personality to match his Prince Eric looks.
I tried to make my chest seem bigger, deepened my voice and swigged my sh***y beer like I was in a square state.
Alas, despite my greatest efforts, I was not a very convincing top.