once at the red star, i liked a key lime martini enough to have two. this green pie-flavored drink is served with graham cracker crumbs around the rim. as you drink, the crumbs become soggy and begin to taste like pre-chewed cheerios served from the fist of a toddler. i don't not like that. and then, since i was at the red star, i liked sofia coppola's champange in a can. and when the bartender offered up a shot of chambord that turned my bubbly purple, heck. i liked that, too.
i really liked the madonna song the dj at redstar began playing.
i did not like it, however, when he seemed to resent my liking and ripped the record from the stereo and replaced it with something else. we left the red cave and went back to the bar area, where i liked the pillows and couches.
back at chuck's i liked his deck so much that i wanted to sleep on it, with my head rested on the metal threshhold. he assured me that this like was fleeting and in a few hours, i'd probably like my head on an actual pillow.
i did not get the chance to like our frozen pizza or an episode of arrested development.
the next day i liked chicken nuggets from the dollar menu at wendy's, and decided that these little honey mustard vessels are a cure-all. anything in my body that felt amiss -- from my head to my urinary tract -- was cured in 10 easy, pleasy bites.
i like that, too.