Every week is exactly the same. I don't know why I allow myself to be treated this way.
I wait for you in my car in the parking lot—you are never on time. Sometimes I wait for as long as forty-minutes for you to park next to me, and when you finally arrive I can never get out of my car fast enough without you honking your car horn. Your passenger door is always locked, and since you have tinted windows I have to knock on the door until I hear you open the lock.
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