Review of hanging out with other people:
Sucks. Straight up. It always starts out with the promise of
being okay, and maybe, even a fun time, but eventually takes a turn for the
worse. This turning point usually happens when other people start talking about
their lives. You know, budgeting, relationship problems, parents, what to wear,
the ethics of organic lettuce vs regular lettuce, what they hate about their
new job, meditation, and the benefits of positive thinking. At this point, I
need to be on a substance. At this point, I nod, smile, and agree while using
the phrases, “Oh,” “Wow,” “That’s crazy,” “Yeah,” “Totally understand,” “I see
where you’re coming from,” and “Interesting,” to seem like I care even though
I’m not paying attention. A concerned expression in combination with the
phrases above is even more convincing that I am invested in their bullshit. All
this work to avoid confrontation is exhausting. And as they talk, using the
phrase, “Yeah, I’m going to be roughing it over the next two months on two
grand,” I compare their dreams and troubles to my own, and realize they are
pussies I will never be able to relate to, and want to curb stop their skulls
with my boot. I realize I wish I had xanax. I realize this world is stupid,
life is pointless, and I wish I could just be a basic bitch. I realize they’ve
never pawned or sold something that they loved with sentimental value. I
realize they’ve never pawned or sold something that someone else loved with
sentimental value. I realize it’s 12:30, I have a warrant, my car has one
headlight, I’m a little drunk, and have a 15 min drive to the closest parking
lot I can sleep in for the night. Oh yeah, and waking up with a hangover from
hanging out with other people (not alcohol) is the fucking worst. Realizing
that yes, last night did actually fucking happen. Which is why I have stopped
trying and keep interactions to a minimum. Because if I didn’t I would totally
have killed myself by now, which makes me think maybe I should. Shit, who
knows?
1 out of 5 stars.
Review of walmart cashier in lane 17 on Sunday June 26,2016
at 9:03 pm:
Cool. Not overly friendly, and didn’t say much which I
appreciated. Was patient when I was counting my change out for my purchase. And
immediately reached for the hand sanitizer after our transaction and
interaction was complete cause I am a dirty sweaty smelly bitch at the moment—smart
move. The only negative was him saying, “Have a nice night.” I certainly cannot
meet those lofty expectations, sir; I’m sorry.
3.5 out of 5 stars
Review of the tan teenage girl in the coral pink halter top
and dark blue skinny jeans with a fountain drink in one hand, and an iphone in
the other walking down the middle of the university mall:
You probably didn’t notice that I thought about how to
successfully rob you without getting caught, before realizing you probably
don’t even carry cash, just cards. You’re lame.
1.5 out of 5 stars.
Review of the university mall security guard:
You’re cool as fuck for not kicking me out, but I just
really wish you wouldn’t say shit like, “Welp, I guess I’ll be seeing you here
all day again tomorrow.” Because, yeah you probably will unless you’re off or
something, which makes our next interaction even more fucking awkward.
4 out of 5 stars.
Review of bon ton perfume counter workers:
Do you seriously have to check everyone’s bag or purse when
they set off the military grade shoplifting alarms? Why does it matter to you
ladies if someone is shoplifting? You’re still getting paid, it’s not hurting
the bottom line, and they probably are shoplifting for a reason. But even if
they weren’t who cares? Well except you. Never seen you catch anyone either, so
that shows how good of a job you’re doing. You all suck. Fucking hate you.
0 out of 5 stars
