Ficlets

My Mini Muffins

A man has just moved in next door. He brings home women night after night, and every morning when I go to work, I have to deal with the chick doing the awkward “Hey how are you!”. And they don’t do it because they genuinely want to know how I am, oh no, it’s just to make the long elevator ride to the lobby a little easier FOR THEM . As far as I am concerned, if you don’t care, don’t talk! The man is good looking, a cross between an Ambercrombie model and George Clooney. I got him a basket of mini-muffins. Who doesn’t love mini-muffins! That idiot sent them back with a note attached “Thanks, but no thanks!”. Can you believe my surprise when I arrive home expecting a note on my door expressing his thanks, and I get THAT ? So I of course I have come to the conclusion that I hate the guy. What is he trying for to conserve his girlish figure? So what ever now I know, not to waste my 19.99 on a basket of delectible minature pieces of happiness on any one but myself!

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