I wish I had a running tally somehow of how many sticks of lip balm I’ve licked off over the years. I bet it’s in the dozens—you know, after you add up all the incremental licks over time. A lot of time.

I’m surprised the inside lining of my stomach isn’t lip balm by this point, because I’m constantly applying and constantly licking my lips. It’s not flirting; it’s simply a bad habit.

You’re welcome to flirt with me. Maybe buy me some free stuff here and there. But I’m not flirting.