Libby is pretty lame, but she's nice, so it's ok. She won't fit in the overhead compartment, but she'll sit next to you and listen to you babble about your ex wife. She is pretty damn awkward but after a while you'll get used to it. Sometimes she'll say something funny, but most of the time she'll say something rude or offensive and not mean it at all. If you make a loud noise, she will surely be startled, but then she'll laugh with you about it. If you ask for a funny story about her family she'll have twenty for you to pick from. She'd rather have a date in a mosh pit than a restauraunt. She'll live in the moment but won't mourn when it's over. She won't be good at talking on the phone, and will avoid it at all costs (including the 10 cent text message cost). She'll drive and get angry. For the sake of her vocal cords, don't let her drive. If there is a lame 80's song playing, beware, she is prone to singing along. Possibly dancing. She will confuse the hell out of you, but you'll probably confuse her even more. She may seem shy, but if you talk, she will. She despises awkward silences. She wishes she were born 25 years earlier. She can't live without music. She's the girl in the front row. She's automatic. She won't ever figure it out. There ain't no sunshine when she's gone. She's a girl you don't meet every day
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