“Morning, man.”

“It’s half past eleven.”

“Uhhh. Yeah.”

“What happened to you last night? You get drunk?”

“Scotch. Scotch happened.”

“I thought you were gonna take it easy.”

“There might have been a girl involved.”

“Oh yeah?”

“She rolls up next to me and says ‘where’s your shot?’ and I said ‘What?’”

“Suave. Let me guess, then you said you already had a drink?”

“What? I already had like most of a glass of scotch.”

“Again you did this? You’re an idiot. First that gorgeous blonde at that party and now this.”

“I know.”

“You know what that means, Casanova? When a girl comes up to you in a bar and offers to buy you a drink?”

“Uhhh.”

“I get it. It’s understandable. You’re oblivious, but it’s a simple social interaction. Like the opening serve of verbal ping pong.”

“Hahaha.”

“Don’t laugh, man. Basically what happened is this girl said to you ‘Hey, I wanna fuck.’ and your dumb ass came back with ‘No thanks, honey. I’m already fucked.’”

“Oh man.”

“Nice job. You fail at ping pong.”