First the cute tiny black dots, because that's the way I roll. See, the dotted swiss shirt, houndstooth pants which, unless you get unseemly close, appear to be black dots, and the dots that make up the snakeskin-inspired (I am using a camera-inspired device, I think with a brain-inspired blob of gray jello but that pimple? genuine article) flats. If you count the stud earrings, then four cute ways with tiny black dots. Man.
And speaking of, on with that apology. She, like so many of my victims, was one half of an XX- XY couple. And per usual, I dissed him, dissed him without even a pretense of good manners. Now I am trying to think, if I was in his spot, how long it would take for me to out with the mace if some crone rode up on her bike and started right in liking my associate's Wrangler jeans and then turned her bloodshot gaze my way and said, "Not you, sister. The camera is not liking your eyebags and receding chin." I think there would be trouble, is what. But this dude, cute as the dickens with hair and a personally meaningful t-shirt and everything, was just as diplomatic as he could be, offering up that indeed, her style statement was more camera-ready than his. And, like the 467 other boyfriends similarly shunted stage left without so much as a Tootsie Roll or $50 as a conciliatory gesture, he stood quietly out of frame and did not make a fuss or shoot me or anything. In fact he seemed quite relieved to be left out, and validated in his choice of girlfriends. Ok, all apologies are off.