“Do you mind if I touch you?” I asked my wife one evening after dinner.
Eight girls, all in their early 20s and adorned with “Birthday Babe” T-shirts, frolicked along the Savannah, Georgia, riverfront amid the city’s St. Patrick’s Day celebration.
My friend Sam and I recently dined at my neighborhood Chipotle, the fast-ish Mexican food chain that seems to be challenging Starbucks for supremacy in the “How long before you see one?” game.