Last night, after seeing a fantastic play, we were hungry. So we decided to stop at Whataburger and get some dinner. We ordered, sat at individual tables reminiscent of grade school, and a nice gal brought out our food to us one at a time. Except for one of us. One of the women in our fair group. No. She got the deluxe treatment, the What-a-sized treatment, if you will. Not only did TWO girls bring out her food, but they also proceeded to tell her that they loved her jacket and carry on a little conversation...flirtation much?
Now listen. Before you freak out. One of the women was moderately attractive and the other was semi-normal, but they had their sights on our friend. Yes. They threw out their nets and tried to bag her. Bag her like a burger and fries that cost too much but is oddly worth it. It's true. She did.
After this, I had a dream (in my new bed of all places) that I was friends with Adam Lambert and he had to deal with a crazy man that was threatening to destroy our school, but it's alright. He took care of it. Dream issue solved.
As I write this, there are people on my bed with me, taking up all of my space and bringing their body heat into my hot room on this hot summer's day. But they are not as hot as the two women at Whataburger were last night for my friend. No, not the grill nor the summer heat can compare to the fire burning inside of them. That is the fire of love.