As a writer, specifically a blogger, there are certain situations in which I find myself torn.
Situations like this:
MetroNorth train from CT to Grand Central.
3 guys. 2 girls. Mid-twenties.
The girls knew each other. The guys knew each other. The guys met (I assume hit on) the girls at Fairfield. Then they invaded my train car.
The guys, specifically a shaggy haired one who clearly thought he was The Shit, kept trying to instigate drinking games. Because of course, what’s a 6pm Sunday train ride w/o a couple of cans of Beast. That’s right–BEAST.
Shaggy: Okay, we’ll play popcorn.
Redhead: Omg, what’s popcorn?
Shaggy: Didn’t you ever do popcorn reading in school?
Shaggy’s tiny friend: Yeah, like, I’ll say ‘popcorn Alex’ and then you’ll have to drink Alex. Then you’ll popcorn someone else.
Redhead/Alex: I don’t get it.
STF: Popcorn Alex. Now you drink.
Shaggy: Okay, we’ll play another game. Maybe “never have I ever?” Ooh, how ’bout the showtunes game?
Alex’s friend: No no! I’m sure these people don’t want to hear us sing.
*Me, internally*: Oh dear lord no!
STF: They won’t mind if you sing good.