People. This is why no one ever believes me when I tell them I'm sober.

Here are some of the conversations Neal and I had yesterday.

Last night. We're at a local bar, getting ready to eat dinner. Neal leans over and does this thing where he ALMOST licks my nose. It always freaks me out.

Me: "Ack!"

Neal: "Hee."

Me: "You're a Parseltongue." (For non-Harry Potter readers, a Parseltongue is a person who can talk to snakes.)

Neal: "A Parseltongue! Me?"

Me: "Yeah."

Neal: "Well, you can talk to MY snake anytime you like."

(long pause)

Me: "Man. You are smoo-ooth with the ladeeeez."

After dinner, we're getting into the car. We're goofing around shoving each other, until I accidentally hit him in the nuts with my purse.

Neal: "DAMN, GIRL!"

(long pause)

Me: "Did you just say 'Damn, girl?'"

Neal: "I SHO DID, GIRLFRIEND!"

Me: "OK, it is time for us to go home."

My point? Sure, he talks a good game, with his respectable job and nice clothes and brainy attitude. But that Neal sure is a weirdo, huh?