I’m taking the margaritas at the mall pill

It’s a nice day, and everyone needs to leave the house—find somewhere else to sit around—from time to time. Practically, though, my circumstances leave me relatively limited in the spaces I can occupy. I can’t go to a coffee shop. I get insecure, squeamish even, around that subset of individuals with actual work to do, people with jobs. Not to mention, my table manners are abysmal, I’ve always got a foot up on the chair or something similarly undignified.

At the library, there’ll always be a guy standing outside to harass you about voting or petitions and it’s really not something I have any patience for. They really don’t know what they’re doing, approaching me with that stuff. I’m the product of a normie CNN lib, “they’re literal nazis” mom and a Steve Bannon fancam father. My politics are, accordingly, regarded.

This is how I end up at the mall in the year 2025. First, I decide to walk down to the movie theater to fill up my water bottle with that perfect crunchy ice that nicely satisfies my pagophagic cravings, which are secondary to an underlying—no, not anemia—just a manifestation of your garden variety oral fixation in a girl without a more, well, productive outlet for such impulses. I walk past a pimply teenage boy with wire rim glasses wearing an absolutely monstrous black leather collar—the thing is garnished with leather spikes that really drive the point home, I think. He’s walking alongside this girl-obese, but, in fairness, otherwise fairly inoffensive in appearance—with, yes, leash in hand. There’s an elderly man wearing—improbably, I know, but I promise I’m not making this up—cat ear headphones— turning to kiss a much younger asian woman. What a touching scene— I would cast these two instantly in a Cialis advertisement, if I had a say in such things. To my right, a visibly homeless man is watching Dave Ramsey YouTube shorts off a screen so cracked the edges are starting to peel up. An unfamiliar feeling sets in—I’ve never felt so sure—yes, this is where I really belong.