This is not a Low-Calorie Food
I’m sorry, but I did not come to this café to watch couples make out with each other between drags of their American Spirits and delicate sips from their soy-based fruit smoothies, but that’s exactly what ended up happening. Someone just kill me, I think to myself, my eyes narrowing. Please someone bring their organic fair-trade latte up to my table and pour it over my head and scald my vacant eyes so that I don’t ever have to look at this fucking scene again. I hate everyone in love and I just want to eat my omelet in peace, you marauding exhibitionist pieces of shit. The bus-boy offers me a to-go box and I smile, briefly forgetting all about my misanthropy. “Thanks,” I squeak, hoping he likes me.
by Kira Hesser
What can you say in Six Sentences?