{overheard}

***WARNING: Don't read if easily offended! lol****

In the (quiet, professional, somewhat upscale) lobby of my office building:

Billy: What do you want for dinner babe?
Me: Something quick.
Billy: Want to pick something up?
Me: I can make pasta.
Billy: Eh. Pasta upsets my stomach & I don't want to be on a plane tomorrow with an upset stomach.
Me: So you're saying my pasta makes you sick?
Billy: No, I'm saying pasta makes me sick.
Me: No, you're saying my cooking makes you sick.
Billy: No it dosen't, I've ate your cooking all week. I ate your taco last night.
(creepy looking old man nearly breaks his neck spinning around at that comment)
(we had taco salad last night for dinner...and the night before. He liked it so much he wanted it again last night for dinner)
Me: oh my god.
Billy (realizing what he just said & deciding to fly with it) : It was good too, so good that I ate it two nights in a row!
Me: stop.
Billy: I love your taco! Why you blushing baby?
Me: You need to go, beat traffic.
(stuffy lady walks by)
Billy: She needs her taco ate.
Me: Seriously. Leave.