Its hard work being out there. And everyone is. Everyone is doing the same thing and they don’t know why or they don’t care about how ridiculous the whole thing really is. So the only thing to do is buy a scotch old fashioned, sip is slowly, and watch as everyone around you forces moments with each other and prolongs the whole charade.
They ask me things like:
Can I buy you a drink?
How do you like New York?
What do you do?
I want to answer with things like:
As many as you can afford.
We both know you don’t really care if I do.
Astrophysicist.
Because I’m not stupid or maybe I am so much so that I’ll never know the difference, but after almost a year in New York I have a pretty good idea of how things work. Because when you say things like “Vivian, Veronica, wait, Rachel? Want to come back to my place?” you have to know that you’re not fooling anyone.
Because I’m no fool or maybe I am so much so that things will never change. Men can always talk about things while I’m drinking scotch the way I’d talk about my knowledge of celestial bodies and the interstellar medium – halfheartedly.
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