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Things I Could Have Said to Connie Britton When She Came Into My Coffee Shop the Other Day

“Is your coat from Anthropologie or does it just look like it is?”

“Is that — yeah, that’s a latte, right? So awesome.”

“You have a calming effect on people and are like human chamomile tea that way.”

“Looking at your hair is like being underneath a waterfall.”


“Congratulations on having the best fake marriage.”

“Does Kyle Chandler’s wife hate you?”

“Where do you live? I’m not asking because I’m gonna, like — I’m just trying to keep you here longer. Hahaha.”

“I have no idea if you cook, but I kind of can’t believe you don’t have a cooking show yet.”

“Lately my deodorant has stopped working, and I think I need to switch brands but I keep forgetting to stop at Duane Reade.”

“What is the technical name of your hair color?”

“You could do something morally reprehensible, like have someone deported or murdered, and I would still totally love you even though I might deny it at parties.”

“How do you get men to like you? I mean, for extended periods of time?”

“Here, keep my lip gloss, I want you to keep it.”

“Tell me things about myself that I don’t even know.”

“Seriously, man, your hair.”

“What is the key to being a woman?”

“Please lend me the key to being a woman and I’ll run across the street and make a few copies because I know I’ll lose it over the weekend.”

“You were the best fake mom, but I bet you’re an even better mom on the reals. I mean, I’m not the sort of person who says ‘on the reals.’ But I just said it again! Ahh! ”

“I am so sorry that other girl gushed over you when you were just trying to enjoy your latte. I promise we’re not all like that.”

Anna Breslaw is Texas forever.


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