I don’t understand girls.
Seriously, I just don’t get you girls sometimes. I was sitting around, reading this awesome new sci-fi book called 172 Hours on the Moon, when Maya stomped into the room and flopped down on the couch. She seemed like she wasn’t in the best mood, so to distract her I said, “Hey Max, you might really like this book.”
Yeah, I know I called her “Max.” But it was just a mistake. I wasn’t thinking. She slowly turned to look at me, her eyes narrowed.
“Whoa—sorry. That just slipped out. I didn’t mean it.”
“Really, Fang? Ever heard of a Freudian slip? Because that’s exactly what that sounded like to me.”
“A… what? Maya, seriously, I know you’re a different person from Max. You just look so much like her.”
“Did you ever stop to think that SHE might look like ME?” Maya roared. “Just because she was FIRST doesn’t mean she’s BETTER.”
“Well… yeah, I guess you could look at it that way, too,” I said lamely.
“Unbelievable! Sometimes I don’t even know why I bother with you,” Maya snarled, and she jumped out the open window. As I watched her soar away, I decided it was probably not a good idea to go after her.
But maybe I should have. I just think she made too big a deal out of it… right?
Ever had somebody just go off on you, probably because they were mad about something else? What did you do to fix things? I could really use some help here.
Thanks friends. Fang out.
