*Having a conversation about marriage*
Dad: I was a mushroom in the relationship. Caught in the crossfire.
Courtney & I: What?
Dad: Like a mushroom. Do I really know ghetto slang you don’t know? Like someone that gets caught in the crossfire of a gang fight. They call them mushrooms.
Me: Worst thing I’ve ever heard.
Dad: Look ill look it up *googles it* Oh no wait, that’s a different mushroom.
The wost part, after 5 minutes on Webster he found it.
So I’m sitting in a stall in Milton Mall. There’s currently an old man in the stall next to me, mumbling something about his belt, and toilet paper. I’m really hoping he’s a futuristic grandpa and is actually talking on a Bluetooth headset.
Not to mention, he’s been standing in front of the toilet facing away for almost 5 minutes.
I can’t wait to be old so I can get away with that kinda shit.