My would-be drug dealer texts me…



Britta: So what’s going on with the boy?

Me: He’s coming home a week early from vacation, and we’re hanging out Wednesday.

Britta: I’ll need details.  Nervous?

Me: A little.

Britta: Take one of your Ativan.

Me: I don’t have any Ativan.  I have ADDEROL…lol…I don’t think being able to clean his entire house is a good move.

Britta: I got a bunch when my mom was passing, I might have extra.  They’re great, you’ll be super relaxed.

Me: I don’t need tranquilizers!  I need to take a deep breath, not take a shit on his couch.

Britta: LOL…true…well, if you change your mind.

Me: Sure, if I want to take a shit on his couch, I’ll give you a ring.