It happens every time. You're just stopping in to buy your week's supply of oysters and chocolate, and the next thing you know, you're back up at Make-Out Point (what you've come to call the second floor courtyard). It makes sense: Your witty remarks are audible (hear that, Sixth Street?), there's no swimsuit body anxiety (sorry, Barton Springs), and a shopping cart full of personal items can be far more revealing than the most ardent online profile.
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