since one of his biggest hobbies was cooking, chandler rarely ate out. but he was currently starving and was far too drunk to safely cut anything or use a stove. there was a twenty-four hour diner near campus one of his friends loved to eat at, so he decided to give it a shot. he ordered, then got up to use the bathroom. when he came back, he paused for a moment. “ where the fuck was i sitting again ? ” he asked himself quietly. that’s right, i was two tables away from the entrance. proud of his drunk memory, he started walking back to where he was sitting. except, he miscounted the tables and sat down at the third table instead, frowning when he saw someone sitting across from him. “ what the fuck are you — ” suddenly it clicked. “ this isn’t my table, is it? ”
