If Frankie doesn't get you, Karma will

In the first couple of hours, just following the point that we were introduced, she was stuck under my ring. With her base wedged between my middle finger and the ring that resides there, her face extended passed my outstretched hand. She would later repay me for this discomfort, in the parking lot. In a rush to reach my car I dropped her in the parking lot. There she was, face down and all alone. I bent down and swiped her up without slowing pace. That’s when I heard the tearing sound, coming from my left knee. The burning sensation then set it, followed by the pain, and the, “Damn, you’re an idiot,” thought refused to leave my head. I continued toward the car, answering the phone and throwing my stuff in the car. This time the V.I.P was placed in the first-class cup holder, as I pushed the Start button on my car and headed home. I picked up Ginny, my girlfriend, and the two of us headed to the car dealership. She was in an accident a while back and finally decided to get her vehicle repaired, mainly because the insurance company was threatening to close the claim. On our way I decided to introduce her to my homework. As I explained the assignment, she held the fork with a confused face. When I finished, “You should call her Frankie, Frankie The Fork” she said. “What makes you think she’s a girl,” I asked. “Of course she’s a girl” she replied, then placed her back in her V.I.P first-class seat where she still remains today.