You: Where's New Orleans?
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Me: Did you just ask where New Orleans was?
You: Yes, but I take it back.
And so it goes. I often wonder if sitting so close to you in our smothering cubicle hell for so many months has softened my brain tissue and led to the early stages of dementia. At first I laughed off your idiotic comments as a young girl's carefree style, but lately, as you mispronounce "defamation" and claim to know "for a fact" that John Kerry cheated on his wife, the urge to beat you with a foam bat and force feed you Krispy Kreme donuts is growing ever stronger.
"Don't eat that!" you exclaim as a blueberry muffin comes precariously close to my mouth. "It has hydrogenated oil and that is SO bad for you."
I turn to you slowly, take a bite and let the gooey goodness melt in my mouth. You cannot ruin this. It is then that I notice the brownies and popcorn sitting amidst your Whole Foods bran cereal and organic tea.
"You're eating just as much crap as I am," I say defiantly, taking another bite.
"The popcorn machine uses good oil and chocolate has scientific benefits for you body," you say, toying with your ass-length hair.
I summon the courage to smike weakly and turn back to my dying computer. I instantly perk up to hear you talk of LSAT's and grad school and marrying rich. Yes! Law school is super! Go, flourish, litigate!
The irony of the situation is that you think you are brilliant. Though you got flustered by the letters "EST" after the time and did not know what I was talking about when I referred to "the 'n-word'", you are miraculously among those socially challenged whiz kids who went to college at 16. You studied Freud, fed sick children in Honduras, slept with an Italian twice your age, but then asked me how close Prague is to Czechoslovakia, if the World Series included the entire world and what I meant when I referred to "Big Brother."
You thought The Onion was true, that you could notarize yourself, that Osama has clones who appear on CNN and that it was "neat" that John Edwards didn't cheat on his wife "because she's so fat."
Do I even have to mention the 50-year-old bachelor millionaire you stalked and whom you are convinced will one day be your husband? ("He's just SO interesting")
Oh my little poppet, you drive me insane. When I hear you sucking in a breath to dispel another idiotic comment, I brace for the toll it will take on sense of hope. I refuse to participate in your mental charade any longer, so for the record, jerk is spelled "j-e-r-k", Jon Stewart is the host of a Comedy Central show, the eBay grilled cheese does indeed look like the Virgin Mary and yes, I do believe Chinese people eat Chinese food.