I was only sending a considerate text message en route on the DLR.
Me: I have a massage after work. Save me some salami for later.
Me: And by that I mean actual salami.
Him: Party. I’m drinking some of your 7Up.
Me: YOU’RE HAVING A PARTY *AND* YOU DRANK MY 7UP??
Me: WHAT THE HELL.
Apparently he wasn’t having a party. ‘Okay’ autocorrected to ‘party’. Part of me knew that while we were having this conversation. I just like righteous anger. And salami.