I'm sitting, drinking black coffee at 11:11 PM. Make a wish. Fuck that. Make a change.
Let's start over. I'm sitting here with some random boy's number scribbled on my hand. He stopped me while I was pumping gas and told me I was beautiful.
"Not anymore." I said, grinning.
"Here's my number. Call me?"
The attention was nice, much-needed after the recent plummet in my confidence. Still, I will not resort to picking up boys at gas stations.