Squawking, Stupid Birds

10:03 p.m. — A group of people walked out on a $41.43 bill at Jerry & Bert’s Restaurant on Main Street but left a $10 bill on the table.

I don’t want to marry her. I don’t know why her damn parents had to come to town. I am not going to marry Brandy. I don’t care what she says. Yeah, maybe I’m sorry about the Jerry & Bert’s bill, but I told Brandy over and over that I didn’t have any money. She expected me to pick up the tab for her sneering, sour faced dad. Like I want to have to listen to him explain lawnmower manufacturing for the rest of my life? Brandy is just like her mother, nonstop chattering. Both of them kept going on and on about nothing. Birds. That’s what it was like. Sitting with a couple of squawking, stupid birds.

I don’t think anyone saw us leave. No one will recognize Brandy’s parents. And after tonight, they won’t need to drive up to Townsville again. No way. After tonight, I’m telling Brandy it’s over. Finished. I won’t marry her. Maybe when I get paid I might pay back the thirty bucks. Maybe not, though. Someone should’ve paid me for sitting there with her parents.