It was raining.
"Wanna know something weird? Erica eats her hamburgers upside-down."
Izzie furrowed her brow. "Really?"
"Mmhmm." Callie affirmed. "I watched her. She just grabbed the thing, stared at it, flipped it and dug in."
Izzie cackled at Callie's overly animated storytelling. She took a swig of her drink and slammed it noisily on the counter.
"Addison sleepwalks." she stated with wide eyes.
Callie mimicked her expression. "No."
"Yes." Izzie responded melodramatically. "It's terrible. I'll be laying there in total post-coital bliss, when all of a sudden I get the covers ripped from me. And I look up and Addie's halfway down the hall, making her way into the towel cabinet."
Callie snorted behind her hand. "Oh," she said suddenly, remembering another quirk to Erica's effervescent personality. "Erica once tripped over the sofa. The freaking sofa."
"How does one do that exactly? I mean, I can get, like, a coffee table, or something relatively small, but a sofa--"
"I know, right? She's just--I mean, couple un-coordination with astigmatism, and I guess you get the gracelessness that is Erica Hahn."
Izzie sighed and rested her cheek in her hand, elbow resting on the bar.
"I'm sorry. But I'm guessing Erica at least doesn't leave the TV on Matlock at 2 am when we're trying to cuddle."
"No--" Callie began disbelievingly.
"Yep." Izzie verified despondently.
"Man," Callie breathed. "The people we sleep with."
"I know. World-renowned surgeons and they're both somehow domestically retarded…" she said, shaking her head.
Callie sighed. Izzie sighed as well.
