Pen

I hate that feeling when you reach into your pocket to grab a pen, but one isn’t there. Panic sets in while you try to play it cool. Acting casual, you ask the couple if they have a pen to sign their marriage license, because you forgot yours. Then when they don’t have one you walk to your car hoping that one is there, all the while scanning random people at the Griffith Observatory trying to figure out who is most likely to have a pen on them.

Do you know what feeling I love?

Finding a pen in the crack of my car seat.

πŸš˜πŸ’ΊπŸ–‹οΈπŸ“ƒπŸ€΅πŸ‘°

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