Home > Fiction > Conversation that most definitely didn’t happen

Conversation that most definitely didn’t happen

Disclaimer: this conversation really, really didn’t take place. It’s 100% fiction. Also, Mom and Dad, this is the kind of thing that would probably freak you out, so maybe it’d be best for you to skip this one. Also, Wesley, I just borrowed your name, because I associate it with people who are easily annoyed by yours truly. Because, you know, you’re easily annoyed by me and stuff.

            “Adulthood has ruined me,” I say, somewhat depressed as I flip through my magazine.

            “Oh, God, here we go again…. Why has adulthood ruined you?” Wesley asks impatiently.

            “Well, take this ad in my People, here. It’s for a moisturizer that ‘is like a facial every day of the week!’ That sounds delightful. I love my skin, and I’d totally get a facial every day of the week.”

            “So, dare I ask what’s so wrong with all this?”

            I dig around in my purse for some gum. “You know…the wording. My brain no longer goes to a nice, calm salon where some chick smears mud on my face and massages my feet. It goes to mortifying things like Japanese porn.”

            “Um, what?”

            “You know, facial.” I toss the gum wrapper back into my purse for later.

            “Oh, Jesus Christ! What the hell is wrong with you?” He’s disgusted…as usual.

            “Me? What the hell is wrong with those chicks in the bunny suits getting some guy to unleash his snowstorm all over their faces? That can’t be healthy! I mean, shit, he might as well be crapping on their faces!”

            He literally does a face-palm, his eyes squinted mostly shut like he’s in pain. “You know, I really, really don’t think the two have the same effect, nor do I think they’re even remotely comparable. And, again, what the hell is wrong with you?”

            “Are you kidding me? Gawd! Do you know what poop has in it?”


            “Exactly! And that’s how you get Hep A, for fuck’s sake! And, let’s face it, the alternative is basically a Greyhound bus full of disease, too!”

            “Not if you get checked regularly.”

            I raise my eyebrow at him, let it drop, and glare.


            “Moral of the story: don’t be a whore. Seriously, though, adulthood has ruined my life. I wasn’t born yesterday, and that’s unfortunate, because if I could erase all this random shit running though my head, I totally would. Especially the Japanese women in the bunny suits.”

            “Wow. There’s something really wrong with you.” He’s got that pained expression again.

            “Believe me, I know.”

Categories: Fiction
  1. Wesley
    September 26, 2011 at 12:09 am

    No no, I’m pretty sure during different points, all of these things were said

    • September 26, 2011 at 11:18 pm

      You’re probably totally right about that. Still, it didn’t happen all at once, and that’s what’s important here.

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