“Psst…did you hear about Major Houlihan…”
“And the?”
*giggles*
“Oh yeah!”
*laughter*
You hear people talking…no…gossiping about you. It always happens when they think you’re out of earshot…but you’re not. You’re never completely unable to hear them. All the things they say…the way they constantly put you down.
“You can totally tell why she gets angry…”
“Don’t we all know it?”
“I mean why doesn’t she just go get laid for crying out loud!”
“Who WOULDN’T wanna screw Hotlips Houlihan?”
“Just about every man who has an ounce of respect!”
*laughter*
It’s times like these, when there are people around. Everyone’s talking about you…saying what a useless excuse for an embryo you are that your mother had to put up with and spend hours in agony to get rid of.
“Maybe we should set something up for her?”
“Why?”
“To get her off our back!”
“Who then?”
“Oh I think we all know which doctor would be quite happy to oblige.”
“Uh huh”
*giggles*
“One with no ounce of self-respect!”
*laughter*
It’s times like these when you practically throw your tray, run away to your tent and cry and cry and cry into your worn, tear-stained bedding. No words are spoken…no curses are said…it’s not time for that yet. That comes much later.
But then the call for wounded comes…always comes. Mocking you to show your face…BEGGING you to humiliate yourself in front of dozens of people whose life is fuelled by your sadness.
You quickly run into the OR to wash your face before anyone else comes in. You always compose yourself before they see the state you are in. Well…almost always. It’s funny how the few times you have been caught out it’s by the same person…the one who deliberately goes out to upset you.
“Hey Margaret! You alright? Stupid question I know…you are VERY alright!”
*Death Glare*
“Seriously is everything okay?”
*Sigh*
“I’m fine Captain.”
He asks is everything okay…really? You reply there’s something in your eye…or you’re not feeling too crash hot…or you saw someone who reminded you of your cousin in-law’s great aunt’s niece twice removed’s pet poodle Fifi. He buys it for the most part and continues on his self-proclaiming, up beat way - It’s funny how the only person in camp you’ve been close to…and imagined being close to many times, is the one who mocks the most.
Then in the session you unwillingly push your problems to the back of your mind as you help others fix theirs. You hate your job…you REALLY hate your job. Once or twice you’ve contemplated just walking out of there and seeing if people noticed or dare you say cared?
Though you never let it known that there’s a problem. You carry on in a normal, angry, Houlihan fashion; an asset you are ever so thankful to have inherited - Good old dad. And people never think any more or less of it. After all, everyone has been on the end of a pissed off Major at least a dozen times.
“Can everyone keep it down?”
“Why Margaret it’s just a little music!”
“Yet the throbbing sensation in my head isn’t such a small headache.”
Silence at last! Yet HE tries to but in and get whatever it is out of you…and all the time you have told him to keep his eyes on the patient.
“Hey…what’s up?”
“Just keep your mind on the patient please doctor.”
“Scissors.”
“Scissors.”
Yet after a while you loosen up, and actually forget about feeling sad or sorry or lonely about yourself. You begin to laugh at the jokes, to smile under your mask, which is 3 inches filled with lint and to occasionally join in the singing…depending on how long you’ve been in there for.
“And then the 3rd guy says to the genie ‘I wish I had my buddies here with me’”
*raucous laughter*
“That’s terrible!”
“Now that’s not fair…I think it was fantastic…best one ever!”
*groans*
“You guys just don’t have any taste!”
And then you get those sessions where you fight for a kid.
“Retractor…sponge…suction…Damn it!”
“60 over 30”
“Come on!”
“We need more sponges!”
“Come one…COME ON!”
“90 over 80 and rising sir.”
“Good job Hawk.”
“Nice going son.”
“Phew…alright pack it open and we’ll go back in 2 days from now.”
The days where it’s relatively calm are good. Generally…the problems you had at the beginning stay away a whole 10 hours.
“Drink at the O Club anyone?”
“Naw…I think I’ll hit the sack.”
*yawn*
“You better too Margaret.”
“No…I think I wanna drink.”
“The woman has taste.”
“Night Pierce.”
“Night.”
Yet…the days where you lose a kid are worse than you think. The loss and heartbreak of losing another living soul is almost unbearable. You’ve let him down and everyone knows it. Sure – the doctors are fine: they almost always know what’s gonna happen. But we don’t. The problems from before…increase 10 fold and all you can do is cry.
“You did all you could son.”
“It’s not your fault Hawk.”
“It’s this damn army.”
“You turning in?”
“Ah not right now…see you tomorrow.”
“Night Hawk, Night Margaret.”
*sniffle*
“Hey, you okay,”
*shake head*
“Margaret?”
Cry: cry on somebody’s shoulder. Shake hysterically and uncontrollably. He knows why…because it’s all your fault that 19-year-old kid died…well he knows part of the reason.
“Come here. It’s not your fault. It’s none of ours. It’s that damn army.”
“You’re forgetting one thing though.”
“What?”
“I AM THE DAMN ARMY!”
And you run out, away from him, to your tent, and cry. Not only cry, but curse, and wish to God that it was you he took and not the blonde-haired private that was just driven away in a body bag.
“Why…WHY GODDAMN YOU! YOU SON OF A BITCH!”
You hurl various objects across the room…not giving a damn where they land. You then after a few moments realise whose fault this really is and you strip off every bit of army that was on you. Nails now clawing at bare flesh, you know there is nothing there; yet you continue to scratch at your naked body, knowing that the uniform doesn’t make the man…but it’s the man who makes the uniform.
“Just go away…PLEASE JUST GO AWAY!”
You aren’t yelling at anyone in particular. You’re yelling more to yourself. You hate what you are…what you grew up as. And nothing will ever change that. So there you sit, curled up in a ball, naked, rocking back and forth, tears of violent sadness continually rolling down your face. You wonder if you are on this world for the soul purpose of pure torture. You wonder if there is even a purpose. And you find none. You hate your job, your life, no friends, all enemies, people are afraid to talk to you to your face, and behind your back they find nothing but fault and mockery. You hate it. You want to be gone…away from the suffering and sadness and coldness. To be non-existent. And then…after a while – 5 minutes…5 hours? You don’t know; he comes knocking at your door.
“Margaret…you wanna talk?”
*sniffle*
You pull on a robe and open it for him. No words are said; you just go to his arms and sob. Not terribly hard, not enough to show there’s more than one problem. After a while you pull away.
“You alright now?”
“Yeah…I’m fine. It’s just…you know.”
“You sure?”
“OF COURSE I’M SURE!”
You silently curse yourself for yelling.
“Really Pierce…I’m okay.”
You smile…it looks genuine…he buys it.
“If ever you wanna talk…”
He trails off, gesturing with his hands what you know he means. You smile again and go back to being a major.
“Goodnight Captain”
“Goodnight Margaret.”
He leaves. You watch him walk away and forget why you were crying. You clear up your tent, get changed and go to sleep; knowing the net day will be better.
But the you…is me. And the what if…actually is. The last time he left I remembered why I was crying and the feeling didn’t leave. I’m sure it’s not just a bad spell that’s been going on. But normally, they only last for a week. This…feeling has been here for months. I hate it. I’m ready to be gone from here. Like hell anyone would notice. No point running away: wherever I go they’ll hate me. End it…once and for all.
How to go out of this world in 12 easy steps…don’t see that in the camp library. Then again, plenty of other suicide victims never had help did they?
Suicide. It’s a pretty word, rolls off the tongue easily. Yet the connotations connected to it makes it sound something bad, dirty, sick…insane. That’s me in a nutshell – no pun intended.
“Bulbs…Blankets…”
Where the hell did I put them?
“Bi-Carbonate…”
Look in ‘A’ moron. Ah…there.
“Ow…crap!”
Damn boxes…damn light…DAMN ARMY!
“Margaret…going for a midnight stroll?”
“Just sorting out one last thing before I go to bed.”
“No time for a drink?”
“No…I’m rather tired…goodbye Hawkeye.”
“Goodnight uh…Margaret.”
IDIOT! Keep your regular routine. One slip up and BAM! In an institution with Sidney on your back, picking apart your mind.
How many will I need? Ah screw it…the whole damn bottle!
Well…this is it. Cliché aside…goodbye cruel world!
-THE NEXT MORNING-
Oh my God my stomach…
Oh God…I’m not dead…I’m still dying.
“Please…somebody SHOOT ME!”
I can see them…laughing at you. You tried at something SO SIMPLE as suicide and you manage to screw that up. Well congratulations Margaret…you’re not good enough even to die.
-POST OP-
“Major”
“What do you want?”
“There seems to be a problem in supply.”
I freeze…did someone see?
“What kind of a problem?”
“A bottle of amphetamines has disappeared.”
Shit! Oh well…someone was bound to notice. What am I kidding? Those incompetent bitches never pick up something that small. Just my luck.
“Well what are you complaining to me for? Go order another bottle!”
“Yes m’am”
Look at them run. Run away from me. Who wants to be seen talking with Hotlips Houlihan?
“How’s your head?”
“What?”
“The thing on your shoulders. I saw you bolt for the latrine faster than any bowl-syndrome patient has. I figured you had a bit too much to drink last night?”
“You could say that. If you don’t mind Hunnicutt…I need to lie down.”
“Sure Margaret…Hey Hawk?”
“Yeah?”
“You went to the O-Club last night…how much did she drink…I’ve never seen a major run that fast.”
*laughter*
“Beej…Margaret wasn’t at the Officers club last night. What do you mean run?”
“Oh boy.”
“What’s wrong? What run? What ‘Oh boy’?”
That’s right, go ahead and laugh. *sniffle* At the Major fuck-up you have for a head nurse. Well don’t be too concerned boys…soon you won’t have this major around anymore.
-A WEEK LATER-
Argh DAMMIT! How hard is it to cut through a simple vein! Damn medical training. Cut up others but never yourself. Some loony self-destructive amateur you are!
*knock*
“Margaret”
“What do you want?”
“Everything alright?”
*opens door*
“WHAT?”
“Geez keep your head on. I was just checking if everything was alright?”
“Why the hell wouldn’t it be?”
“You’ve just been distant lately.”
“I’m perfectly fine. Go worry about yourself for a change…AND LEAVE ME THE HELL ALONE!”
*slam*
Option two: gone.
“Hawk…”
“Mmphft”
“Cat got your tongue?”
“Just a schizoid Major.”
“She go off at you for no reason too?”
“Quite a few times actually”
“Time to play Uncle Hawk and Aunt Beej?”
“No…just leave her alone for a bit.”
“What…why?”
“Because I’ve been on her back about how she feels too much.”
“Then all the more reason…FOR US TO TALK TO HER!”
“What’s all the yelling about?” “Margaret…”
Option One: fail
Option Two: equal fail on my stupid conscience part
Option Three: Thank you dear old dad.
To the 4077th
No
To Hawkeye
“WHAT?!”
“It’s…”
“You mean to say that it’s not only been me who’s worried about her?”
“And I’ll bet my third liver that Charles feels the same way.”
“How long has this been going on for?”
“Couple days”
“Couple weeks”
“Couple months”
“Why do you say that?”
“Since when does Margaret Houlihan ever cry over a patient? I mean sure: we all do occasionally…but after every kid? And why am I all of a sudden Hawkeye and you’re still Hunnicutt?”
“Maybe it’s because she respects your work Pierce.”
“Aw come on Charles you can’t not admit that she’s been a little off normal for a while?”
“Well…actually. She has been unpredictable”
“Yeah so…that’s Margaret Houlihan.”
“MORE than I’ve known her to be. Yet she is so particular about keeping things right.”
“I’ve noticed.”
“We all have…”
“Except for today”
“…And yesterday”
“For the past week…”
This is when words aren’t enough. One bullet…all it takes…no…the more the merrier.
“What is it?”
“You don’t suppose…”
“Suppose what?”
“Well…”
“SUPPOSE WHAT?”
“Suppose she’s depressed.”
“We’re all depressed…”
“I mean depressed to the point of…No. This is Margaret Houlihan we’re talking about.”
“Evening Major”
A clearing…a…a field.
“Everything alright?”
Wipe your tears Godammit!
“Even so people are prone to act different under pressure.”
“Act different…”
“What was that Hawk?”
“Oh shit…COME ON!”
*running*
“What is it Pierce?”
“Hawk?”
“SHE'S GONNA TRY AND KILL HERSELF!”
“COME ON!”
“To Hawkeye…Words aren’t enough.”
“Oh God…”
“WHERE IS SHE?”
“KLINGER WHERE’S MARGARET?!”
“Saw her about a minute ago…heading that way.”
*gunshot*
“NOOOOOOOOO!”
IDIOT! A field AWAY FROM PEOPLE.
“God…PLEASE NO!”
“WHERE IS SHE?”
“MARGARET STOP!”
Oh great!
“WHY SHOULD I? YOU ALL WANT ME GONE…WHY SHOULD I HAVE TO STICK AROUND LONGER THAN ANYONE WANTS ME TO BE?”
“Just…put the gun down Margaret and we’ll talk about this.”
“NO! There’s been too much talk.”
“Margaret please…let’s just go back to camp and we’ll…”
“You…aren’t LISTENING!”
“Margaret we…”
“Don’t come any closer…”
*puts gun to head*
“Okay okay we won’t…just don’t do anything foolish Okay?”
“Yeah…like I always do!”
“Why?”
“I SAID DON’T come any closer…even you too HERO.”
“Why?”
“I HATE IT! I hate being ignored…abused…unacknowledged…being…being hated…hated by people who I care about. Hated by you…and you…and you…and…and even you.”
“But why me?”
“Why you WHAT?”
*sob*
“The note…”
“Because…”
“Why?”
“Don’t come…any closer…I TOLD YOU THAT ALREADY!”
“I just want to know why me?”
*weeping sigh*
“Because you…were the only one…who talked to me…the only one who seemed to…who seemed to care.”
“Then why this?”
“Didn’t you read the note?”
“When words aren’t enough…But why this? Why couldn’t you come to me? THERE’S ALREADY TOO MUCH DEATH HERE.”
“BECAUSE YOU’D DO WHAT YOU ALWAYS DO…LAUGH IN MY FACE! And I just don’t want that anymore…”
“Then what do you want?”
“I want…I want to be left alone…I want to be GONE.”
“No…no no no no no. Please Margaret don’t think that. What do you REALLY want?”
“I just want to be loved…”
“Shhh it’s okay…it’s okay Margaret…Colonel…”
“I got it son.”
“Call…”
“I’m on it.”
“It’s okay…it’s okay.”
I still don’t feel loved. Even now that Hawkeye’s smothering me. He’s crying too. Maybe he does care? Maybe I should have talked to him?
“Don’t you EVER do that to me again!”
“I…I’m sorry”
“Shhh…”
“I’m always screwing things up for people…”
“NO you’re not. Everyone makes mistakes…I just really…I don’t want you to go.”
“Why?”
“Because I care about you”
“We all do.”
“If we don’t show it…”
“We’re sorry.”
“See…”
“I’m an idiot…”
“No you’re not…it’s us that are.”
I can only cry. Cry more than he’s seen me ever do. I’m so sick of crying all the time. I just want to be happy.
“Promise me something. If you ever feel this bad again…come to me. Please?”
*nods head*
“Thank you.”
“Sidney…we need your help ASAP…”
-LATER THAT NIGHT-
“That’s everything…What? Honestly IT IS! Hawkeye told you from his Point of view and I said the story…what more do you want?”
“Tell me when did all this start?”
“I already told you that…”
“When did you first start to realise this all?”
“Why?”
“I thought I was the one asking the questions…”
“A little role reversal…isn’t that what you do?”
“Can be.”
“Well why not try it out now? Here…take the couch, I’ll take your chair.”
“We’re not at that level.”
“Even after all this time we’ve known each other.”
“Margaret…when?” “I dunno…how should I know? 4…maybe 5 months ago.”
“And what was your first thought when you realised all this.”
“My first thought…Oh my God?”
“Why do you think you thought oh my god and not something else?”
“When you hurt yourself do you usually say ‘Well gee whiz wasn’t that silly of me!’?”
“Well…”
“No, you say ‘GODDAMN THAT HURT…’.”
“So when you realised this…did it hurt?”
“Or you could say something a little more colourful.”
“Margaret…”
“Yes it hurt…it hurt a lot.”
“Tell me about it. Where were you when you realised this?”
“I…I’m really tired Sidney…”
“Okay we’ll continue this tomorrow.”
“You’re not leaving?”
“I never said that…”
-OUTSIDE-
“Why can’t you just do it HERE?!”
“There are just too many ways of escaping.”
“But we can take shifts of watching her.”
“Look it’s not forever son…just until she gets better and she’ll be back.”
“Yeah right.”
“There’s no way she can stay here then Sidney?”
“Whatever happened to keeping the patient in a familiar environment? Something they’re comfortable with? Take Margaret away and you’ll do more harm than good!”
“Since when did you become a psychiatrist?”
“I may be no psychiatrist…but I know Margaret Houlihan better than anyone else here. I can no longer count the number of times she’s come to me in tears…”
“Better enough to miss the warning signs of attempted suicide then Pierce?”
“You sanctimonious BASTARD!”
“PIERCE!”
“Fighting ISN’T going to help us here.”
“Winchester…one more crack like that and I won’t stop him.”
“Or me.”
“Come on Colonel…the best place for Margaret is with specialist care and those who know what they’re doing.”
“Charles, you make it sound like she’s on deaths bed.”
“She almost is.”
“So Sidney…what’s the verdict.”
“You know how important it is to keep the person in a familiar setting…something I try to do everywhere possible…”
“Then that’s settled.”
“Let him finish.”
“I guess Margaret stays here then…”
-THE NEXT DAY-
“Margaret…how are you today?”
“Just peachy – you?”
“By the way did I tell you we’re not going to Seoul?”
“We’re not?”
“No…we want you here with us.”
“Hawkeye”
“Mind if I kibitz?”
“Margaret?”
“If you want.”
“Now Margaret…tell me where you were.”
“What? No warm up questions? No pictures of blotches that look like horses or murder?”
“No need for blotches…I like to jump into things without warning…makes life that little bit more exciting.”
“Plus the sooner we get over this…the quicker we get to the O-Club.”
“Why wait when we can order out?”
“Margaret…”
“Well…we were in surgery.”
-OR-
“Where the hell are those gloves?”
“Looks like Hotlips forgot to order them!”
“JOHNSON YOU’RE CONFINED TO QUARTERS ON REPORT!”
“Colonel why should I be punished for HER screw-up?”
“NOW!”
“No pulse doctor”
“ADRENALINE NOW! Come on…come on…”
“Doctor…”
“Come on…come on…”
“DOCTOR!”
“Dammit! Time of death…Ten-oh-Three”
“You did all that you could son…some people just insist on dying.”
“Margaret…”
“I…I need some air.”
-PRESENT-
“And so I walked behind post op and cried my eyes out.”
“Who was Johnson?”
“A nurse.”
“A nurse with claws out.”
“Claws?”
“Yeah…had a bad attitude towards higher ranks…especially”
“Me.”
“Why would that one incident set things off?”
“How should I know? You’re the expert in picking minds apart…you figure it out!”
“Did you know who she was?”
“Johnson? A complete bitch of a nurse.”
“Why would she have something against you?”
“Because I’m the higher authority…”
“Then why didn’t she pick on Potter…or me or BJ or Charles?”
“Because you’re all likeable…even Charles. No one can hate you.”
“Why that one comment by a nurse you know nothing about?”
*tears welling*
“It wasn’t just that. What she said only made me realise. I knew people hated me long before she came.”
*sob*
“I only…only coped by…keeping that line of respect in place and…and then that was crossed and…”
“How about a 5 minute breather?”
“I was about to suggest it.”
“Just leave me alone Hawkeye…”
“Are you kidding me?”
“I’m not going to try anything…”
“And I’m General MacArthur’s aunt.”
“I need a drink”
“Make it a double…”
-5 MINUTES LATER-
“Now can you tell me Margaret, everything that caused you to feel this way?”
“Aside from the obvious hatred by the entire camp.”
“Margaret…”
“Most of the camp then.”
“Go on…”
“It’s the little things, like overhearing gossip and giggling from the nurses. Practical jokes gone wrong…just the way people talk behind your back.”
*sigh*
“It all seems insignificant…”
“But it can have a profound affect on people.”
“There’s more though isn’t there?”
“Death…and the inability to stop it. I know people die…but you always feel responsible when you lose a kid.”
“Even though you did your best.”
“That’s up to what your definition of best is…but generally yes.”
“What else is there?”
“What do you mean ‘what else is there’?”
“Aw come on Margaret…you can’t tell me that this is all over what a few people say. It’s not you…that’s not how Margaret Houlihan would react!”
“Well after nearly 30 years of it PAL wouldn’t you be re-evaluating yourself?”
“There’s more…I know it…JUST SAY IT!”
“Can we keep it quiet? My head is thumping faster than a rabbit in the spring. Hawkeye…a moment?”
-OUTSIDE-
“Maybe you should sit this out…”
“No…I promised her I’d be there and I’m gonna.”
“It’s not that…the thing she’s holding back from…you got any idea?”
“With Margaret Houlihan it could be one of a million things.”
“Okay…you sure you wanna stick around?”
“Definitely.”
“Just…don’t get her too aggravated”
“Who me? Anyway this is Margaret we’re talking about here…”
“Yeah.”
-INSIDE-
“Care to continue Major?”
“If he can keep his mouth shut…”
“Sure…fine…”
“Now Margaret…you were about to elabor…”
“I know what I was going to do…I’m not stupid…”
“Coulda fooled me”
“Hawk…”
“Why can’t you ever let me finish?”
“I wasn’t stopping you!”
“Well why can’t you shut up?”
“Because you were wrong!”
“No…I…wasn’t…AND WHY CAN’T YOU BUTT OUT OF MY LIFE?!”
“BECAUSE I DON’T WANT YOU TO KILL YOURSELF…AND WHY CAN’T YOU TELL THE WHOLE STORY?!”
“BECAUSE YOU’RE HERE!”
“Oh don’t you DARE use that as an excuse! You’ve told me more in 2 years than you’ve probably told yourself in 20…what is it that’s caused all this?”
*whimper*
“It’s you.”
*runs out*
I can’t face him any longer…all the hurt…the pain…the loneliness…the longing.
-MARGARET'S TENT-
“MARGARET!”
“MARGARET…”
“Just go away!”
“We’re nearly there”
“What is it? What did I do to hurt you?”
“I’m sick of the pain. I’m sick of crying all the time. I’m sick of being thought of as nothing but a WHORE by people. I’m sick of being lonely. I’m sick of long…”
“Of what? Sick of what Margaret?”
“When words aren’t enough…what did you mean by that?”
“I’m sick of longing for something that I can never have.”
“Longing for what?”
*sigh*
“You”
“Me? As in…hmm well okay then!”
“Now do you know why?”
“Um…no not really…no.”
“From MY perspective?”
“Why you’d try and kill yourself over me?”
“NO! Why I couldn’t tell you.”
“Yeah…but why me? There are millions of others out there…why me?”
“And no I didn’t try to kill myself because of you…don’t flatter yourself.”
“Sidney…what’s your opinion on all this?”
“My opinion of all this doesn’t entirely surprise me. War gets to everyone. With your added stress and background Margaret, it didn’t surprise me that drastic measures were taken.”
“Are you saying this was coming?”
“Not in the form of attempted suicide. The human mind is a complicated thing. We can never expect or know what each single person is going to do or what they think. No matter how hard you try Hawkeye.”
“So where do we go from now?”
“I don’t think Seoul’s necessary. With a more sessions…maybe not so much like this, things will get better. Trust me.”
“Sid…what about…”
“That’s something I can’t do. I’ll be sticking around for another day…if you wanna talk. My shingle is always up.”
*walks out*
“So…”
“Yeah…”
“Funny huh…how things turn out?”
“Tell me about it.”
“You gonna be alright?”
“Are we talking short term or long term here?”
“Let’s go short term…”
“Not really no…”
“How about long term?”
“Probably…yeah.”
“So what’s so different?”
“You.”
“Ah right…we’ve come to that.”
“Do you REALLY get why I couldn’t tell you?”
“Rejection…”
“Exactly…I’ve really fucked things up haven’t I?”
“I wouldn’t say really.”
*rolls eyes*
“Thanks”
“It’s just another thing life’s thrown at us.”
“Life’s a bitch…”
“You said it alright.”
“So…where do we go from here?”
“A few more brain un-scrambling sessions with Sid will be good.”
“With you there?”
“If you want me too.”
“Would you want to?”
“Of course. When words aren’t enough…”
“Yeah…”
“Actions speak louder than words.”
“That’s it.”
“You know…you could have always just showed me what you felt.”
*snort*
“What? Kissed you without warning?”
“Sure…why not? I did it to you all the time.”
“Kissed?”
“Showed you how I felt without words.”
“Hmmm”
“Yeah.”
“We’re pathetic aren’t we?”
“You can say that again.”
“Is it love?”
“I dunno…you?”
“I don’t think so…at most the early stages of it.”
“Yeah.”
“Well…coffee?”
“Only if you’re buying!”
“I guess I have to buy when having guests at my place…”
“What else can you do when words aren’t enough?”
“Stick around and find out!”
The End
