On New Year's Eve, we went to the pharmacy up the block from a friend's apartment. Boymeat needed something, and I needed to go with him so I could smoke, too. We lolly-gagged outside for not long because of how cold it was and ducked into the store. I lamented over having forgotten my leg warmers. For months now, over a year even, I've been searching for comfortable but leg hugging purple leg warmers. None of my usual sources carry them. And what does he manage to find in a Duane Reade on nothing more than my random faux-whining whim?
And this is why I live a charmed life.