❝You can find me where the music meets the ocean.❞ -Unknown
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"Hello, this is the Fine Apple Market."
"Oh, good, I remembered the right number."
"How was the fruit?"
"It was okay. Could have been better."
"..."
"What?"
"You're so polite."
"I can't tell if that's sarcasm or honesty. Anyway, I try."
"I can't tell if that's sarcasm or honesty."
"Shut up."
"You're so sensitive... Aria."
"... That... isn't my real name."
"Then Tinkerbell is my real name."
"What?"
"Exactly."
"Okay... fine... Well, just because you know my name, and where I live doesn't mean you can come attack me or something."
"I haven't budged from this chair in the past eight hours. Do you really think I'd consider it worth my time to hike up to Letterman and attack you?"
"I'm told that's what stalker creepzoid guys do."
"Do I really give off that kind of vibe?"
"I mean, you speak at the pace of a drunken snail, but that's irrelevant."
"That's quite the analogy. Did you come up with that yourself?"
"Why do you ask so many questions?"
"Wasn't that was a question?"
"Was it?"
"I think it was? Maybe?"
"All you have to do to make something a question is to stick a question mark at the end if you're writing it down or just say the final word in kind of a high voice... like thIS?"
"I'm afraid my voice doesn't quite reach the high pitch of yours... DoES IT...?"
"You really aren't that funny."
"I try."
"Bye, Tinkerbell."
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I just want to quickly acknowledge the fact that the drunken snail analogy is not entirely original; my boyfriend came up with that one :)