Excuse me? Ok? With a period? Are you kidding me? What did I ever do to you, you spectacular asshole? Here I am, glued to your hip of betrayal for the past (______ weeks), and you have the audacity to oh-so-tersely tell me “Ok.” when I ask you to meet me at 6 instead of 6:30? If you want me to go straight to hell, you can feel free to just say that; that’s what I read with your stabbing knives of pithy punctuation and your lackluster response to the idea of getting a drink with your fabulous girlfriend.