Your nose is blocked. A snot has been growing for the past few hours, but you haven't been isolated enough to pick it yet. You look left and right, then pick and twist. Immediately a door opens, and your ex-girlfriend appears-- the one that you lusted after for three straight months. You think desperately, "She didn't see that. Please say she didn't see that..."

 She is wearing a long, black evening dress, and she brushes a strand of hair from her immaculate face. You jump and hide behind a bush to observe all. Carrying herself like Miss Universe, she saunters into the passenger side of a Lexus. She is the only passenger and the silhouette of the driver is clearly a man's. A tear of jealousy runs down your cheek. You wonder what he could possibly give her (besides taking her out to eat and paying for it) that you couldn't.

 As you step out of the underbrush, whining, you meet head on with the guy who failed to see the humor in the "your momma" jokes you tried out on him the other day. You wipe the tears from your eyes and try desperately to do anything but assume a fetal position. He walks by and gives you a large smile of revenge (his only smile) and flicks a cigarette in your immediate direction.

Before you can move even an inch, it lands on your big toe. You are wearing Birkenstocks. You let out scream that would befit a mortal wound. Turning around, you find a crowd behind you where there previously wasn't one. With fear in your eyes, you try to shout "Call 911" over their laughter. (By the way, no one can call 911 at Clark, it doesn't work.) They give you a standing ovation for your performance. Unfortunately, it didn't seem as good for you as it was for them.

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