Once I let go of my first straw, it fell into the bottle. I couldn’t get it out with my shitty no-muscle fingers. So I asked Andrew, “Can you pull my straw out so I can take another sip?”
“I’m sick,” he replied. Since I have to avoid getting sick, I didn’t want him touching my straw.
“Ok. Just get me another one, but don’t touch the top where I put my lips,” I said.