The other day I was making grape juice out of the concentrate can and several small splatters hit my shirt when I was pulling off the cap. Real tiny ones, but on the front of the shirt, mere speckles. I left them there before meeting a girl.
It does not take long for a woman to notices these things. The spots looked like tiny droplets of blood.
She asks me, “What’s that?”
I reply, “What’s what?”
“That.” Pointing to the shirt, “it looks like blood.”
I look down puzzled for a moment then say, “Oh, that’s nothing.”
“It’s not nothing, it looks like blood. What happened?”
“It’s not important.”
“Did something happen?”
“No.”
“What is it then?”
Long pause, “It’s grape juice.”
She looks at me for a long moment, “No it’s not. You’re lying.”
“Look, it’s nothing, It’s juice. Honest. Do I look like I was hurt?
“No.”
She’s convinced I got into a fight and nothing I could say would dissuade her.
