I’m on my knees, and he’s pointing it at me.I ask myself why we couldn’t have at least gone to a nice restaurant.Somewhere with a chill atmosphere and a selection of starters that might’ve made all of this a bit more palatable. A moment ago, he said he was sorry I got twisted up in this scene, and that I must be on an 18-carat run of bad luck. At least it wasn’t the old ‘it’s not you, it’s me’ schtick. Read this story