netflix are the devil

The man who makes my eggs in the morning came from around the counter yesterday, snuck up behind me and whispered in my ear that I wasn't the only one concerned about the high price of bacon. It wasn't the inappropriate act of intimacy that shocked me, so much as the realization in the moment that it had been so very long since a man had whispered anything to me at all.

I Must.

Absolutely.

Get out.

More often.