Stavanger Bay life is like a box of chocolates

Though they had long since passed, Aesop could remember the wilder days of his youth, back when many of his more apparent flaws were far more intense. He liked to think he had simmered down a bit, was more patient and able to speak about his feelings. Still, he remembered that sometimes not talking about it, whatever nebulous, weighty thing it was, was not always the best way to get over it. So, for now, he steered clear of the topic.

"Didn't want to be stuck with that asshole back there," he lied, grinning, "besides, I never got your name, and shit's rude as fuck. 's not like me to forget my manners like that." That might have been a better excuse. Were they not so ingrained in his speech patterns, he might have omitted the swears. However, it was a force of habit at this point, and it was all too easy to let them casually slip before he could censor himself.