Me: Sitting at Yolo's [a restaurant in Vegas that Malison and her boyfriend love]; expecting big things.
Malison: Yum. I'm so jealous. Did you get the guacamole? They make it at the table.
Me: That's why I'm here. I haven't gotten my food yet...though I did get this very yummy tequila-y drink.
There is a passage of time here. Long enough to, say, finish a drink...
Me: I ordered a second tequila-y drink and it's MUCH stronger than the first. You should expect my texts to become more slurred.
Malison: Yikes! Are you alone?
Me: Yep...well, alone with thousands of people.
Malison: Any hot ones?
Me: I don't know.... Every time I see a hot boy I think he's a gambler and probably owes money to someone who's going to break his legs. I'm terribly judgmental apparently.
Malison: Tequila does that.
Me: This was before the tequila; I'm sure I'll be much less discerning now.
Malison: Tequila means cuter boys and better vocabulary. It's win-win.