A very surreal lunch today with my dotted line bosses.
Kirsten decided to talk about the nefarious things she's done at gay clubs all over DC before she settled down, got married, and ordered her son from some online womb.
Tom isn't really much of a clubber, though he and I agreed that Kirsten tends to see the line and hop right over it like a little bunny in her tales.
But neither of them had even been to a foam party, so I explained it a bit to them:
Is it summer yet?
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