This (early 20s) (fragile) (mildly chunky) (white) woman is talking about her anxiety and then about the research of this (mid 20s) (balding) (fat) (black?) (gay?) guy, and then 2 friends join them, and then when they start talking about their summer jaunts she says something about how she's going to stay soon at some expensive hotel, and they're like, "What?", and then she's like, "I never told you about that?", and she says that she spent a lot of money there when she was on Adderall, and in the spa they wrapped her in some bandage stuff and then set her in a pool and left, and no-one was around and she started to freak out, and now she gets like 2 days free there every year.
"I thought pressure like that was supposed to be comforting," her generic woman friend said.
"It's supposed to be," she was like.
Then, after a pause, she was like, "I should write a short story about it."
"You should," her generic woman friend was like.
. . .
(Later I texted my one professor friends who studies [modern] [Czech] literature about how rich and obnoxious the graduate students now seemed, and she said that they were all like that now, and seriously entitled, too.)
No comments:
Post a Comment