The Stories We Bring Home
Recently, I went to a bar with some of my friends, where we ran into a group of their lady friends. I don't know these people, so I'm letting them have their conversation, where the following exchange takes place.
Girl: I mean, my step-brother is soooo fucking HOT!
Me: ::looks over to other friend who's not in this conversation who makes eye contact with me::
Friend: Nice. (dry sarcasm)
I can always count on my friends to make any awkwardness worthwhile, but there's a larger lesson I drew here. The landscape for social interactions has deteriorated to such a degree that I am now reduced to explain that the reason why I didn't meet anybody was because, "Well, I did meet this one girl, but she's really into her step-brother." America, FUCK YEAH!
Girl: I mean, my step-brother is soooo fucking HOT!
Me: ::looks over to other friend who's not in this conversation who makes eye contact with me::
Friend: Nice. (dry sarcasm)
I can always count on my friends to make any awkwardness worthwhile, but there's a larger lesson I drew here. The landscape for social interactions has deteriorated to such a degree that I am now reduced to explain that the reason why I didn't meet anybody was because, "Well, I did meet this one girl, but she's really into her step-brother." America, FUCK YEAH!
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