I was eating at my favorite restarant, Ventana Maya on 13th and Pearl, and overhead a very weird final statement to a conversation.
“Well, I hope I didn’t do too much harm.”
“I will live.”
It may not look like much of a sting when I type it, but Person 2 really ment:
“If you could do worse things to me, I would be dead.”
All the while, I was sipping on this: