I totally had a “Romy and Michele” moment on the way home from work tonight.
No, I didn’t claim to invent Post-Its.
Nor did I perform a mesmerizing dance to “Time After Time.”
I did, however, unknowingly cut my foot and then my shoe filled up with blood. No, really.
I realized it as my train approached — where I managed to get a seat, despite my pathetic hobbling. The seat turned out to be a front-row pass for a homeless man’s keyboard playing and “I’m Broke, It Ain’t No Joke” serenade.
Safe to say, this girl needs a drink. And a Band-Aid.
Do you have some sort of business woman special?