Basic Bitch Being Basic

Dear Mrs Verma,

I'm not one of the Twitterati, but if I was, I would so have live-tweeted the incessant dribbling of the annoying cow whom I had the misfortune of being stuck next to on the street car this afternoon. Let me give it a shot here, since I'm always open to trying out new and different things, aren't I? Is a tweet still 140 characters or something? I'm obviously not going to follow that rule, since I am also quite the rebel haha.

<Start>

Well-dressed Asian-Canadian chick and her gay office-mate just got on to the street car @ King & Portland.

Thirty seconds in and she has let out an exasperated scream.

It appears that the food place she picked up her lunch from has not given her her fries!

“Can we get off?”, she has asked her mate. He responds with a reassuring “sure”.

We’re just coming up to Spadina, which means it’ll be a 6-7 minute walk back for them.

Oh oh oh … she has changed her mind while blocking the door to the street car! She’s decided to let it go. “Win some lose some, honey”, I think to myself.

I was wrong. She has not let it go. AT ALL. She has now announced she will be complaining to the careless establishment.

I’ve surreptitiously glanced at her bag. It’s Porchetta & Co. on King that has made the grave error. Oh they’re in for it now!

The gay mate is trying to placate her by offering to share some of his fries. What a dear.

She’s not having it. She has just taken a picture of the food and the receipt. I imagine the next step is her emailing it to the store.

She has declared that she has sent it to Riley. Who be she/he?

Oh my! Apparently she now wants Riley (another office mate, I presume) to complain on her behalf when Riley goes to pick up lunch.

I’m hoping Riley comes back with an “Ain’t nobaady got time fo dat” …

The gay mate has now offered to share half his fries. Clearly he too wants her to shut the hell up already.

It isn’t about the fries, she moans. It’s the principle. I paid 3 dollars for them so I should get them.

I have to say I do agree with her there. But for how long can she go on and on about it. Move on, sister!

Lord – this is like the five stages of grief. She is now contemplating, once again, going back to pick up her fries.

Realization has dawned that it will cost her more to go back and forth than just letting go.

I'm about to start thanking the Lord for the end of this shit when she sticks her face in office mate’s bag (not a euphemism).

“Oh just checking if you have TWO sets of fries” she says nonchalantly.

The poor boy, looking a bit aghast, has once again offered to share.

Why the fuck is this street car moving so slowly, I’m asking myself, hoping that my stop comes soon.

She has worked herself up into a frenzy of blaming the world now, it seems. She has just asked the friend “why does everything go right for you?”

“Coz I’m white”, he has instantly responded. OH NO HE DIII’NNTT!!

She looks annoyed.

He has let out a half-embarrassed laugh and said, rather softly, “just joking”.

I wonder why they’ve gone to pick up lunch more than a km from where they work?

Oh thank heavens my stop is here!!

<The End>

Incidentally, what’s the price of potatoes at the sabzi mandi near your place, Mrs V?

Yours,
GG

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