The other week I was having coffee outside on a Sunday morning at the coffee shop near my house, and this one opthamology student I know through friends joined me at my table for a bit.
We chit-chatted about her studies, how long the program takes, what's the letters after her name ("OD"), etc.
Later, the local bartender we know and her husband walked by, and they chatted with us, and because they were going to see a play later that night, we all started talking about plays.
Somewhere in there, I suggested that the opthamologist write a turgid play called "OD", about two childhood friends, one who goes to ophthamology school, and the other one who goes and gets addicted to heroin.
"And you know what?", I was like. "It's the heroin addict who makes it out."
"Shut up!", the opthamologist was like, laughing, and swinging her hand as if batting at me.
Later, she left to go catch a bus and fetch her bike from a friend's house way in another neighborhood.
"Drunken antics," she was like.
Tuesday, May 30, 2017
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