Friday, November 27, 2015

Well...I'm In Love

I was sitting in my coffee shop.

(* Yes, of course I have one.  Where else am I to recharge my loathing of all things Millennial and  hipster?*)

When I overheard this conversation.

Two girls are talking.  I have no idea what their relationship is but just to give you an idea of the relative levels of attractiveness involved here.


This 
Was giving relationship advice to

That

This: You can not get married at eighteen.

That: No, I could not get married at seventeen.  I'm not seventeen anymore.

This:  Yes, and you are throwing your life away...at eighteen.

That: Throwing my life away?  You are telling me that getting married at eighteen is the same as putting on a bomb belt for ISIS.

This:  You may as well be. You don't understand at all.  You don't know yourself at eighteen.

That:   Is there, like, some magical age where I do suddenly know myself.  And then I, like, never get a day older again?  I never, like, change again?

This:  He's way too old for you.

That:  He's seven years older than me.  Ain't that the same amount as you and Lille?

This: That's different.  Lille went to college and grad school.

That:  Brett makes six figures.

This: And look what he does for a living.

(*Cataline's best guess from recent experience.  Brett is a plumber*)

That: He works hard for good money.  He owns his own house. It's a nice house.

This: It's not like it used to be.  You've got your whole life ahead of you.

That: I'm not sure I do.

This (suddenly concerned) : Are you okay, what's wrong?

That:  (laughing) I'm not sick. It's just that civilization is, to about to end ya know. Like in about fifteen years, something like that. Which means my life expectancy is really like fifty or so.  I need to, you know, get out there. Now.

(*Fifty? Eighty five? No real difference at all for an eighteen year old girl I suppose.*)

This:  Where...Where did you get this?

That: It was on Vox.

This: (stunned look) It was on Voxday ?

That: (nods head) Vox Day (*Cataline is making a big assumption here*) said that.

This (blinking in silence):

That: You're the one who told me to start reading it.

This: (still blinking)

That: An-n-n-nyway.  I was kind of like hoping you were gonna be my Maid of Honor but if you...

This (WOAH! GEARSHIFT!!!): Maid of Honor?


Cataline left the coffee shop immediately.

2 comments:

SciVo said...

Huh. I think she's partly wrong about the implications of an economic collapse, but not in a way that should change her decision.

A lot of lower life expectancy in olden times was from childbirth mortality (both natal and maternal), infant mortality and child mortality. Life was hard on vulnerable people, but the weak didn't last to 50. If she makes it that far, then she should expect 70 (the old "three-score and ten" allotted to us by God, even in Dante's time).

However, she's right to get her reproduction started now, since there's no point in building a career that could get cut short at mid-life, and then trying to start making babies right when necessities could be less available.

Cataline Sergius said...

It was just very unusual for me to run into a girl that practical.

Doubtless all of her high school teachers feel that all of their efforts on her have gone to waste.