265. Skype, lunch and honesty.
Princess Peach: Hi guys, how about lunch today?
Bowser: I am in at any hour.
Princess Peach: I'd like to go early. Maybe 12:15 pm?
Daisy: ok
Bowser: ok
Princess Peach: :)
Mario: ok
Cassandra: I can't join you for lunch today :(
Princess Peach: :(
Bowser :(
Cassandra: :D
Mario: *cries*
Cassandra: Please don't be so emphatic :D
Me: I'm guessing I can't join you guys either...
Mario: *party*
Princess Peach: empathy has gone out the window it seems...
266. End of the working day. Standing in front of my office, the research visitor and I are drinking coffee, discussing some anomalies in the sketches for a proof. In the perpetually excited voice, he is explaining to me why he has -- for the umpteenth time in less than two working days -- changed his mind on whether a function possesses a property. Trying to concentrate on his reasoning, I almost miss the split-second image of someone walking towards me, nose scrunched up, hands waving ridiculously on either side of the head. Interrupted by my sudden laughing, the research visitor very much wants to know what was so funny about his scientific arguments. Shuffling feet in embarrassment, I ignore his question, "So, you were saying, the Laplace transform of…"
267. Going through the storm with a virtually stranger, because of his insistence on walking me home, supposedly as part of being a gentleman. As I am blindly stumbling forward, continually wiping the rain off my face, the gentleman yells out periodically from behind, "Can't we go to a bar nearby? Are you sure there isn't one?"
266. End of the working day. Standing in front of my office, the research visitor and I are drinking coffee, discussing some anomalies in the sketches for a proof. In the perpetually excited voice, he is explaining to me why he has -- for the umpteenth time in less than two working days -- changed his mind on whether a function possesses a property. Trying to concentrate on his reasoning, I almost miss the split-second image of someone walking towards me, nose scrunched up, hands waving ridiculously on either side of the head. Interrupted by my sudden laughing, the research visitor very much wants to know what was so funny about his scientific arguments. Shuffling feet in embarrassment, I ignore his question, "So, you were saying, the Laplace transform of…"
267. Going through the storm with a virtually stranger, because of his insistence on walking me home, supposedly as part of being a gentleman. As I am blindly stumbling forward, continually wiping the rain off my face, the gentleman yells out periodically from behind, "Can't we go to a bar nearby? Are you sure there isn't one?"
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