IT WAS FRIDAY. Finally. Miriam leaned on her hand and stirred her drink. Why did they always have to go to the same bar?
“Okay. So, what about that guy?” Jennifer head pointed at a youngish looking suit, leaning on the bar with a practiced smirk. “He’s good-looking.”
Miriam looked up. “Which one?” They all looked the same to her. Middle management. Whole Food hot bar eaters. Looking to get married, but not for another year or two.
“That one. The dark haired guy.” She sipped her drink through her stirrer stick. “He’s cute.”
“You don’t mean Tony? From legal?” Miriam snorted. “No way. He’s a pugnacious little shit.”
Jennifer cocked her head. “He has a pug? Wow. I didn’t know that.”
“Pugna… nevermind.” Miriam sighed and went back to leaning on her hand. “So, are you going to SoulCycle tomorrow?”

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MERRIAM-WEBSTER WORD OF THE DAY
Pugnacious
Adjective | pug-NAY-shus
Having a quarrelsome or combative nature.
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