When I finally got back, she was decently hammered, but I managed to drag her to a burger place and get some fries and water in her before she sobered up enough to hang out some more.
We then ended up strolling 20 minutes to this new bar/restaurant that was just opened up, that was East Coast / nautical themed (including in the establishment's name) and that had a whitewashed interior with random ropes and expensive antique-y nautical bullshit draped here and there.
"No one in New York city names anything the Midwestern, I don't know, Lodge!", she was like. "That just goes to show you how much cooler the East Coast is."
(She's originally from a major East Coast metropolis, as she likes to point out now and then.)
Next to us, too, was this (white) woman filling out an employment form.
"Put down 'Transgender'," my one modern Czech lit professor friend leaned over and said. "They'll be forced to hire you and you can do anything, you'll be golden."
"But I'm not 'Transgender'", she was like, which led to me and my one professor friend suggesting to her that she should maybe just put down "Gender non-conforming" instead.
"And it's true," my one professor friend was like. "Everyone's gender non-conforming somehow."
"Hey, I suppose I'm gender non-conforming, too!", said the one hipper-than-thou, bearded, man-bunned, tight-bodied (white) (brunette) (early 30s) bartender who sidled up just then.
"Of course you are," I was like, "You have a man-bun."
At that, he got really quiet, and I immediately thought to myself, "Oh fuck, I shouldn't have said that," since it turns out that it was just a little too much and took the joke a bit too far.
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