Not over or for, but about.
All I heard as I walked by was, "I wasn't abusing her. Now that you are how Passion treated Skye you can see I was only defending myself." It was pretty pathetic, and the dialog they were using was like a terrible soap opera.
"You are only pointing the shitty end of the stick at me without hearing my second side of the story."
Oh lord, get me the boxed wine and microwave popcorn.
A train finally showed up and rescued me only to sit me next to an old Native American guy who also happened to be a TSA agent. He was moaning the songs of his people under his breathe for two stops before I remembered I have my headphones.
Now the calming sounds of my own music are oozing into my head: much better.
Is it Friday yet?
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