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“After the meeting, the president did a one-eighty, completely changing his tune.”

A full emotional one-eighty in a span of sixty seconds.

Long enough that I’m expecting him to spin a one-eighty and run back for one more kiss.

I whip around in a full one-eighty, already speed-walking back to the Seventy-Second Street station.

Me: “Remember how yesterday you wouldn’t even talk to me? Kind of a one-eighty, huh?”