The psychology study office had a bright red ink pen and a framed poster of The Scream. I thought about stealing the pen to prove I was impulsive, no matter what the test claimed, but I left it alone after a couple of scribbles.
The test just pathologized interestingness.
I was awkward, laughing at my navy nails, enumerating an example pharmocopia I'd consumed: "Uh...mushrooms, ritalin...cocaine...eleven beers." In the pizza industry it's called an Around the World.
The babe in the flowing shirt betrayed no empathy as she administered the questions. Alluring, with a cool aloofness, she inquired how many people I'd boned. She fluttered a stack of papers. It takes a lot to look good in institutional lighting. I thought about stuttering a humble number, but moreso I thought about asking her out for a drink later.
No comments:
Post a Comment