To The Convention We Go

It turns out that Amanda did not come to view my outfit in a better light. Unfortunately, she couldn't see the forest for its trees, or in this case, my eyes from the stripes. 

Her backseat was packed to the brim with an entourage of magical creatures, yet somehow it was me, the freaking stripe-spangled man that chimed like wedding balls with every bump on the road at passenger-side that she couldn't keep her glances from straying to.

I sent her pics before, I thought we were past this.

"Hey," I confronted her at a red light. "If you're looking for a new pose to sketch, I suggest you just take a picture before you rear-end us all the way into a police station."

"Huh? What? Sketch?" She gave me a big, dumb look. "I… have no idea what you're talking about. Don't be weird. You look weird enough already."