“And how did you two meet?” I ask as my eyes follow two suited good-looking twenty-year-olds retreating to the bathroom for blow. “Get this, you’ll never guess. Guess.” He waits and watches me, full of giddy expectation. There are two things I despise in this world above all others: the first is when a person forces you to guess something as though you are a psychic or a child or could possibly be interested enough in their lives to expel brainpower to feed their narcissistic tendencies, to observe them fully and regurgitate some aspect of that observation back to them to their ultimate
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