short, I was Carrouf. (Say "Carrouf" Carrefour not, if you want to go for real rebelz. But do not forget your loyalty card.)
The type, type I-17-years-love-kyo-and- I-me-drunk-with-the-Tourtel, accosted me, hello or shit, the radius of Kinder delight. The
con.
Never come between me and a delight Kinder.
"heuuu mmmhh ... ... ... How to say Excuse me, heuu ... You will not get 50 cents?"
You know me, barely finished his sentence, I can already see extract his heart's rotten guts to teach him manners. But I thought better of telling me that I did not want to bitch ray biscuits.
"No." I replied, man.
is true, whatever.
If the type of designs come from a store without a penny in his pocket, he should be able to understand that others are also in his case.
"Pshaw heuuu ... ... Too bad." He replied with an air of dog shit, as if I was going to lay a roll of new parts so he could buy his Tourtel , and a package of Palmito, bonus ...
... Eh bah
you believe me, believe me you , but I really felt like the guy thought I did not care for him. Jean-Philippe
me slip that perhaps I could ask him if he accepted credit cards. What
con too (confess, eh!)
And even if I was going to do a card for 50 cents.
I wish you good morning.
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