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Recently, my best friend Tayla and her longtime loser boyfriend Lucas found themselves in the midst of a heated argument at the local dive bar. The tension between them was palpable, a mix of too many drinks and pent-up frustration that had been brewing for weeks (well, more like months). Once again, in an effort to make himself appear far superior (and cooler) than he actually is, Lucas told everyone that he’s related to a famous rockstar and wanted Tayla to play along. Tayla, her eyes flashing with anger, wasn’t having it. She hates it when Lucas lies, especially when he insists she participate. Tayla turned around, her heels clicking sharply on the sticky floor, and stormed out of the bar, leaving Lucas looking like an idiot and feeling very embarrased.
Lucas, desperate to salvage the night, followed her out, his voice pleading as he called after her. “Baby! Baby, you can’t just walk home! Let me drive you!” Tayla, her back stiff with defiance, snapped back, “Well, I ain’t helpless here, you’re just someone I can’t stand. I can find my own way home, I don’t need you!”
