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Pepperoni and I were talking about our Splendour adventure in July, just between the two of us, and he interrupted twice with stories of his own. He couldn’t just be. He couldn’t just shut up when we were talking. And his comments weren’t just a five second interlude, they were ten minute stories that went nowhere and just annoyed me.

Especially the drug stories. Apparently he used to smoke marijuana every day, and that back then it felt strange when he didn’t smoke it every day. But now it’s just a weekend thing. Oh and he went on several trips that involved dropping a whole bag of Ecstasy over the weekend. It wasn’t that he did drugs, per se, although I’m not a fan of regular pot smokers, but it was the fact that he talked about like it was a cool thing. He was bragging about drug use. I find that completely high-school.

By the time I jumped out of the pool and hinted it was time for him to go, I was close to cranky. Not quite cranky, but close.

I walked him out the front to his cab and he kissed me on the lips, and said he really wanted to do it again. I said I’d chat to him soon.

The next day he sent me a text saying he had a great time and wanted to see me again soon. I still haven’t responded.

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