“What’s the point of work? Or marriage and kids? We ‘re born, we grow up, go to school, work, get married, have kids and die.”
“It’s whatever point you want it to be. You’re in charge.”
“You get up, go to work, come home, go to sleep, get up, go to work, maybe relieve a bit of tedium in a bar or someplace…”
“So do something else!”
“I knew you wouldn’t understand.”
“Of course I understand. Just about every single person who’s alive thinks the same thing at least once in their life.”
“Marriage. Tying yourself down and merging yourself legally, financially, all that to someone else, and for what? So ten years down the road, you divorce? And if you have kids, they grow up to hate you? And you buy a house with a mortgage and you’re stuck with that for 40 years…”
“What’s brought all this on? Existential crisis?”
“Mmm-hmm. Well, at the party yesterday, I was talking to somebody about life…”
“The tall woman with the long hair?”
“She’s very smart.”
“Oh.”
“Julianne can’t help that she’s beautiful, I mean, smart! ”
”’Julianne?’ Kevin, you want that woman.”
“I… Yeah.”
“Wait, you’re dumping me? Here?”
“I’m sorry, Sheila.”
“All this agita was fake?”
“I’ll get my stuff out tomorrow.”
“To think we would actually have a real conversation…”
“But I agree with you; it’s all a choice.”
“No wonder we’re at Starbucks. You bastard.”
“Yeah, well. Good luck with life. Really. I mean that.”
…
Reader, I punched him.