The first instance involved guesstimating Dustin Hoffman's age. I stalked that man at MoMA! He doesn't look a day over 65!! But of course I was wrong, and ended up shelling out for ice cream.
Then last weekend, Plato and I were talking before I went to see Quantum of Solace. My Pop and brothers are obsessed with James Bond; because of them I know all sorts of lame trivia about Astin Martin DB5s and Walther PPKs. But I had to be all cocky and think that Goldfinger came before Dr. No! Of course not. So a few days later, Plato and I were off on the hour and forty minute walk to China Buffet("it's a beautiful day!", "we'll burn the calories that we're going to consume!"), and I was the one picking up the tab. Meh.Now I'm sitting at home, nursing my throbbing foot-blister and helping Wiki make duct tape Moravian stars as thank-you gifts for the professors who wrote her reference letters for grad school.