You don’t? It was back in the dark days of Dreamer’s…I think it was the first one she ever gave you. She kept messing it up and had to keep cutting it shorter and shorter and shorter….you looked a fright when you came into work that night/morning.
I’ll have you know, my wife thinks I’m very handsome…but she’s in the minority…and she is a minority, so that must be part of it….you know them Mexicans.
I guess what I meant was, that she doesn’t care about stupid mustaches, mullets and obviously not dopey tattoos and stuff. I never would’ve guessed the wife was Mexican. No accent that I could tell. Or kids, lots of kids.