After a thorough and wary over-analysis, I have decided that cute regular-counter-guy down the corner shops (source for my caffeine-addict's supply of Diet Coke and/or Red Bull) was probably not flirting with me. Still, self. Way to pop down looking more like a bum than Johnny Depp on a bad day, and then end up talking about... the weather. In my defence, he brought it up. And on the plus side, I feel his compliment on catching a toppling cream soda bottle was well-deserved. I do have ninja skills.

And now?

Cream soda and The Wire. When they find me a withered, malnutritioned husk in my room, the walls covered with frenzied scribblings of 'OMAR!!!!' and 'MCNULTY YOU IDIOT', you can all blame shati.