Ok, imagine this: you’re Bruce Wayne on a night out on the town and go into a ridiculously expensive restaurant with a 6’0
russian ballet dancer with a waist as
skinny as a pencil. The dinner goes fantastic and she’s a marvel to look at. As you leave the restaurant she breaks her high heels, falls, rips your coat on the way down, and breaks her arm. She blames you because you weren’t holding her arm in the
perfect way. Now it costs a butt load to
fix, she can only go to a specific hospital that only uses certain medication so she doesn’t destroy her olympic progress, and all of it is out of your pocket.
But hey, she looks great.
“I was at the
meet yesterday and
saw a beautiful, 1 of 1 Ducati, just a shame he probably sold his
wife’s wedding ring for it behind her back.”