What to Do When You're Making Small Talk at the Oak With an Accomplished Local Painter After Dinner's Soaked Up Your Third Gin-and-tonic While Waiting for Jackie's Undisclosed Replacement to Enter the Arena Sometime Before Your Alarm Clock Goes Off in Six Hours But a Girl Whose Hymen Hangs From the Inside of Your Thick Skull Walks in Alongside Her Friend Who's Loathed You Equally for the Last Twelve Years and Your Foreman's Not the Man You Thought Either


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