Can anyone explain to me why the locksmith who spent an hour fixing my front door lock this afternoon (for which he charged the usurious rate of $330) never told me I had leftover lunch on my face?
I can understand not wanting to comment on something that perhaps I had no control over – I do remember the time someone said I had food on my lip and it was cold sore cream – but there aren’t any skin conditions I can think of that look like pesto on your chin.
And he wasn’t shy about commenting on my car.