“
It’s been a long time since I’ve had a girl’s night, but I think we’re supposed to bitch about our boyfriends while we talk about Jason Momoa.” She cocks her head. “Who is Jason Momoa?” I laugh, but she looks at me like she’s clueless. Oh, my God. She’s serious? She doesn’t know who Jason Momoa is? “Oh, Bridgette,” I say with pity. “Really?” She still has no clue who I’m talking about. I grab my phone, but don’t feel like jumping off the bar to enlighten her. “I’ll text you his picture.
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