As I walked to the Colvin on this freezing cold night (why am I so dumb), I saw a boy in a short sleeve shirt walking with a girl. First thought: "He's going to die." Second thought: "Oh, it looks like she's wearing his jacket." (It swallowed her.)
This made me think about the fact that no boy has offered me his coat since fourth grade, and truth be told, the boy in question didn't even like me. (It was a hard realization; I was not-so-secretly in love with him, people made fun of me, he liked a girl in the grade above us, I was heartbroken, blah blah blah. He currently goes to OU, so I obviously I don't want him anymore.)
Then, to make myself feel better, I told myself that boys in Nebraska could never legitimately offer me their coats without risking death, seeing as an Omaha winter is truly the most depressing and bone-chilling experience known to man (or maybe just this writer).
In any case, I don't need a boy's coat because I'm smart enough to know that walking outside at 10:30 at night in December requires a coat.
So, in conclusion, wear your own coat because 1) if you don't have a boy, you're walking around in the dark with no company and no coat, and that's just dumb, and 2) if you have a boy and you wear his coat and he subsequently dies of pneumonia or hypothermia, you will no longer have a boy, and goodness knows that's a fate worse than death.
Oh gosh, sounds like the Colvin's closing. I guess I should get off the treadmill now.
