Fuck you, I won't do what you tell meThis morning I realized that I'm still not fit for public consumption after the simple act of putting on a dress and heels and sitting at a boardroom table with a pickup truck full of cute but far too young lawyers nearly did me in. They were comparing Starbucks orders and talking about getting Coachella tickets and Caleb kicked me under the table four or five times for laughing.
Fuck you, I won't do what you tell me
Fuck you, I won't do what you tell me
Fuck you, I won't do what you tell me
Fuck you, I won't do what you tell me
Fuck you, I won't do what you tell me
Fuck you, I won't do what you tell me
Fuck you, I won't do what you tell me
Fuck you, I won't do what you tell me
Fuck you, I won't do what you tell me
Fuck you, I won't do what you tell me
Fuck you, I won't do what you tell me
Fuck you, I won't do what you tell me
Fuck you, I won't do what you tell me
Fuck you, I won't do what you tell me
Fuck you, I won't do what you tell me
Motherfucker
It's okay though, I was laughing at them, not with them. Because I'm old and I care not for complicated coffee orders or festivals showcasing bands I've never heard of.
Okay wait. Going to look at the list. Yes, I've heard of three of the names. I used to like Guns and Roses, right up through Use your Illusion and then I left them for greener pastures, or heavier metal, as it were.
I know who Ice Cube is. He's in 21 Jump Street.
I know who Halsey is only because Ruth is a Twenty One Pilots maniac and squealed for days when she heard a rumor that Halsey was dating the drummer. She made me listen to her album and it's not all that bad though everywhere I went for two weeks afterward seemed to be playing her over the sound system. When they're not playing Twenty One Pilots, I mean. Why aren't they playing Coachella?
And I don't know what an iced half-caf venti three-pump sugar-free dolce soy skinny latte is. It sounds complicated. It sounds terrible. I'm guessing it's cold, bitter and only marginally caffeinated? Probably drunk by lawyers. Very young ones.
When we left the offices, the Devil asked if we could talk.
That's all we've been doing and I still haven't had a cup of coffee which would really help soothe my throat.
I can fix that, he said.
His coffee comes with valet parking and is ordered with two words.
Coffee, please.
Beat that, Mermaid.