By Rachel Michelman
Morning. No, I don’t want pizza you left on your counter, but thanks for the offer. I’m not hungry right now. Yeah, last night was… something.
Actually, can we talk about last night? Oh, nothing’s wrong… I mean something is wrong—otherwise I wouldn’t have brought it up—but it’s nothing serious. I’m sorry, but can we just forget about last night? I just don’t think we should make this a thing. We were both really drunk. I had two shots of vodka, a Four Loko, and two beers and you had one White Claw.
Woah. Woah! It’s nothing personal and not your fault at all. I just don’t think we, ummmm… click well together, you know? It’s like I’m mentally stable, have a GPA of 3.92, am prospected to work at a Fortune 500 company straight out of college and you’re majoring in Graphic Design so you can Photoshop yourself onto the bodies of the Avengers—but especially Hawkeye. We’re on two different paths.
You already told your mother about me? We literally only started talking 8 hours ago at Tommy’s kickback? When did you have time to… Oh. That makes sense. No, tell her I will not be coming to Sunday brunch, nor am I interested in attending mass with you both. Why would Father Greg care? We’ve never met! So, you informed your entire church that we slept together and that you’re moving to New York with me?!
Okay! Slow down. Let me see if I can simplify this for you. Look, you’ve got an Avatar: The Last Airbender poster. I’m a part of the Water Tribe and you’re from the Fire Nation. We don’t mix together. You never see Katara and Zuko—
Don’t get defensive about being called a firebender. It was just an analogy! And sure, I’ll agree that you’re an earthbender and could probably metalbend too if you really want me to! Geez. Alright, I’m leaving. You have my number? Delete it. You can keep your Gengar sweatshirt.
- Claire from POSC-328