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teena and i were by ourselves back in the office. actually, i was at the counter (but there were no customers) and she was in the office. making casual conversation (i guess), she asks, 'so debbie, what kind of guys do you like?'
what? i think she knows i don't like guys. she did when christine had talked to her, and since then, the only thing that's changed is that i'm now hanging on marie in public... it wouldn't hurt anything to tell her the truth... but i can't quite do that, so i just stammer, 'uhhh... ummmmm... i dunno...'
she asks, 'like black guys, or white guys, or what?'
'uhhh... ummmmm...'
when i don't form any coherent words, she asks, 'you just like them all?'
'uhh, yeah, sure, i guess, whatever...'
i am sick of the closet.

before she left, michelle said, 'teena, be patient,' and she was. it was an ok night.