Like a month ago I was checking out a new bar in town towards the end of the night, and I got a drink there at the bar and I was reading a book about cults, and there was this (late 40s) (drunk) (white) woman there with her (fat) (mid 30s) (white) (woman) friend and an (older) (fat) (black) (gay?) (male) friend, and she started talking to me about ten or fifteen minutes in, asking me what I was reading.
"A book about cults," I was like, and we then began talking about that and some recent cult-murders, and then we began talking about true crime, since she loves true crime, as do I, to a certain extent.
"Do you know about Gypsy-Rose Blanchard?", I was like.
"Yes!!!", she was like.
"I still can't believe she lost her virginity to that guy, fucking in the next room over from her mother's corpse, like twenty minutes after they stabbed her!", I was like, and just at that moment, her two friends's conversation quieted down, and they heard what I had said and they just looked over at us with these big WTF eyes.
And, the woman who I was talking with had her back to them and didn't see any of that, so she just continued talking like normal, and she said that she hadn't heard about that, but she was under the impression that she had lost her virginity before the murder, fucking in a movie-theater bathroom through an arranged meeting with that one guy who she had met online and who went on to kill her mother.
She also said that his mental age was fifteen and it would never go any higher, and it was just very, very sad.
. . .
(Per Wikipedia, that woman was write about her virginity, by the way -- guess I misremembered that bit.)
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