...damn this punk...

He's getting gutsier/spunkier/fiestier. Grabbed the zipper of my cardigan, half pulling it down. "Aren't you hot in here?" he asked incredulously.

Well I'm certainly hot *now*.

Personal space, man. Personal space.

Update: I described the occurance in a conversation with Rachel. She says she is keeping the transcript and will read it our wedding. I laughed. Then looked down uncomfortably. Hmm.