Total pages in book: 63
Estimated words: 59947 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 300(@200wpm)___ 240(@250wpm)___ 200(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 59947 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 300(@200wpm)___ 240(@250wpm)___ 200(@300wpm)
Reed clears his throat and bumps his arm lightly against mine. “I’m intimately familiar with the type of person who opens his mouth and says shit before he actually knows anything about the situation.”
It’s hard not to laugh. “At least you apologized.”
“She doesn’t?”
It’s even harder not to laugh at that. “Somehow it was Delia’s fault—or my fault—that Lauryn didn’t know that Delia can’t use a knife. Because Lauryn claims she wouldn’t have said anything if she’d known. But why would I tell her? It wasn’t any of her business. And it wasn’t just that one time. She never apologizes for anything. Another example: when they moved in, while I was at work, Lauryn threw away half of what was in my fridge and pantry. Not even donated, but trashed it all—because she didn’t like the brand, or she deemed it unacceptably sourced, or it had corn syrup in it, or GMOs—oh, she had reasons for it all. And when I yelled at her, she actually went on Reddit to ask if she was an asshole. And then she raged in the comments at all the people who said she was one, writing these long, long replies with the reasons they were wrong. Until finally a moderator came in and shut it down.”
Reed’s the one laughing now—his shoulders shaking and the deep sound of it rocketing through the trees.
“I did enjoy that,” I have to admit. “I don’t think she ever knew I saw the post and all the replies. And, god. I wish I could say her judging was always over important things, like the environmental stuff. Because at least there’s something good at the core of it—wanting the world to be a better place. But it’s the stupidest shit, too. Like you should have heard her a few months ago going off about pineapple on pizza. It’s not my preference, but no one is forcing anyone else to eat it. Yet she talks about people who enjoy it as if it’s a deep moral and ethical failing. And I’m not even joking when I say that if she had the power to forbid people from making it, she would. She’d do it for their own good, because they obviously don’t know any better.”
Reed grunts again. “Like washing legs.”
“What?”
“It just reminds me of something I saw a while back online—about people who scrubbed their legs in the shower versus those who let the water run down and wash everything off. People were invested in this argument. A whole lot of them appalled and judging. But all I could think was, as long as no one’s forcing anyone else to lick their legs, what the hell does it matter?”
“Right? Who’s being hurt?”
“Sounds like you are,” he says, looking over at me. “Not by pineapple or leg washing, but having to deal with similar shit all the time.”
I sigh. Because that’s the whole problem, isn’t it?
“Is it just you or does Lauryn do the same thing at work? How does she get on with other people?”
“She doesn’t work. My dad left her enough money that she can slide by as long as she lives with my mom—”
“Or you.”
“Or me,” I say unhappily. “I have pointed out that she can afford her own place if she gets a job—because she obviously isn’t happy with the way I live—but there’s always some excuse. Usually that most businesses are run by evil, greedy corporations. And I agree, some are evil. But not all of them. She could put in the effort to find like-minded people.”
Reed frowns. “Wait. She’ll toss your groceries because she doesn’t like the brand or the ingredients—but does she use a smartphone? Or watch any streaming shows? Does she know those are all made by greedy corporations? And where does she keep her money? In a mattress? Because most banks are as greedy as they come.”
“Right?! But like I said, her compromises are the acceptable ones. And it’s not just corporations. Even a small business, there’s always some problem that means she can’t tolerate working there. She doesn’t like where their product is sourced, or some policy they have, or there is an industry adjacent to the business that she can’t approve of. Even a bookstore or library is out of the question.”
Reed stops dead. “What?”
“Partially because they all carry books by people she doesn’t think should have a platform. But also because the books use so much paper.”
He looks like he’s been whacked with another tree limb. “Okay, maybe the paper thing is true. But doesn’t the good of a library outweigh the bad?”
“Nope. And there’s always some issue, whatever it is. But when I say, ‘If you work there you could find ways to change whatever you don’t like or boost what you do like,’ she always argues the business owners or the city or the current employees should have already done something—and if the policy is based on a law, they should already be fighting against the law. And I’m just…does she not know that people are exhausted? I see it every single day. People are just burned out and tired. And small businesses especially have no money to wage that kind of legal battle.”