A new strip club opened in a windowless corrugated steel shack in the neighborhood, and my friend's pregnant wife commented on how small the place looked for how many jacked-up trucks were parked in its lot. "It's a lot bigger on the inside," my friend said. He then backpedaled into some story about his bother going there as quickly as he could talk. I nearly had a similar gaff today when trying to text my roommate that our landlord was "busting my balls" about us moving out early. I was thinking my landlord's name the whole time, so I scrolled to his name in my phone and starting tapping in the message. I managed to catch myself before sending it to him while he fixed my shower in the next room, but I suppose that sending it would have been a really great passive-aggressive way to get him off my case.
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