Rapid fire, meaningless (meaning-full if youâre lucky) conversation with someone after theyâve hit the slopes.
Sitting at the bar halfway through my whiskey sour, I spy an old friend stroll out of the bathroom. He beelines to me, I am a trapped rat, and machine guns a conversation about his terrible day and why he couldnât seem to get girls to come home with him. In that moment I realized I was in the middle of another of coreyâs infamous coke raps.
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