It's on your CV that you're very adaptable; as such, when the random girl you’re trying to pick up asked what your star sign is, you graciously blurt out Aries because the only other one you remember is Cancer and you’re not about to claim cancer in Jesus name.

As an art lover,
you’ve found yourself at an open exhibition on a Friday night with just enough THC in your system to make you feel like the hanged paintings in the gallery are talking to you; and that’s where you’ve just met, watshernameagen... Jasmine.
You have a thing for hipster girls with underlying gothic tendencies and right here in front of you is an embodiment of one. This is the niche in the Accra dating pool you’re ready to die for. Nothing is going to ruin this, you vow to yourself, not even the heavens.
‘Wow, you know your sign. I hardly meet guys who do’

“Haha, yeah you can say I’m out of this world”

And out of this world you are, truly, because you’re high af. Everything goes great till she asks what your birthday is.

“Twenty-eif...” you start saying.

‘Uh huh?’ She coaxes.
You catch yourself just in time and smoothly fake a call. You head to washroom where you frantically google the zodiac signs. You confirm the available 28th for Aries makes you a March born when your actual birthday is June 28 but what she doesn’t know won’t hurt her, right?
You stroll out of the washroom armed with what you think is verifiable knowledge; which is funny because 28th June, your actual birthday, makes you a Cancer which you ignorantly abhor.
What you don’t know is that she’ll go on to ask you what house your moon is in; and you’ll say House Targaryen. She’ll look at you unamusedly, and you’ll wonder if you should’ve said Gryffindor instead. But the right answer would’ve been 𝙶𝚢𝚒mini, because you’re an idiot.
https://twitter.com/welbie_/status/1259218393351192576?s=21
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