Alternate title: “In Which Shelley Reveals Herself to be a Pseudo-Intellectual Snob Bordering on Bitchy and Catty”
Or maybe not even bordering.
But I do it for entertainment purposes only. So don’t go and sue me or anything.
I get on the 30 Express bus today and this is one of the first things that percolates to my eardrums:
(chirpy voice) “We’re having so much fun that I don’t know how fun is ever going to be fun again!!!!”
(exclamation points added for emphasis)
Yes, those are the exact words, andIquote, because I took out my damn cell phone and put it in the memo app.
Because: it was THAT GOOD.
In fact I almost want to say: it was so good that I don’t know how good is ever going to be good again!
But I won’t.
And thus began my 40-minute journey eavesdropping on three American college students. It was either eavesdrop on them, or read a little treatise by Nietzsche about morality or another book that my intellectual crush recommended to me. Now, as much I as dearly heart my intellectual crush, these girls were simply too good to pass up.
As in, smoke started coming off of my cell phone keypad.
A few more gems, you say? Ok. Happy to oblige.
We pass in front of Campidoglio. Also known as Capitoline Hill (Wiki up if you don’t want to feel stupid) also known as, andIquote:
The existing design of the Piazza del Campidoglio and the surrounding palazzi was created by Renaissance artist and architect Michelangelo Buonarroti in 1536–1546.
My girls’ commentary?
Girl 1: “Oh! Those are some steps!”
Girl 2: “Yeah. Those are pretty steep steps.”
Girl 1: “Those are famous, right?”
My response to that would be, um, like yes and stuff. And I’d also helpfully add that there are lots of old stones and stuff in Rome. And stuff.
Oh BTW? One of them did something that’s a total pet peeve of mine. The whole mispronunciation of bruschetta. I hate it. It’s like fingernails on a chalkboard. It’s bruSKETah, people! Get it! Not brush-etta. Not brush-etta. REPEAT AFTER ME: NOT BRUSH-ETTA.
Girl 1: “OHMYGOD you totally have to try the brushetta.”
Girl 2: “Yeah, totally, it’s like, so totally oily and tomatoey.”
(Yes she said tomatoey. I couldn’t make this shit up if I tried.)
Other things that were involved in this conversation included the fact that the cleaning lady is now coming at 11 am, spring break (in which the word “VAY KAY” was actually uttered, I swear to you) and, the following pearl of sacred wisdom:
“Having divorced parents is like the worst. I just feel like… that just sucks.”
Don’t tell my kids, ok? I don’t want them to think I suck. And stuff.
Oh also, if you happen to be this girl’s teacher for her “Globalization” class? Just FYI, she doesn’t feel like studying for it. She feels, andIquote, “that I can probably just bullshit my way through it.”
You know, and stuff. Like, just in case you wanted to know.
PS She also compared Villa Borgaysee to a scene from Nicolas Sparks’ “The Notebook.”
PPS I don’t really hate US college kids. They’ve provided me with an excellent living. I could also have made this far more productive and academic by citing facts such as “As of 2011, approximately 37% of Americans have passports or passport cards” therefore allowing me to proudly laud these young scholars for being part of the just over one-third of American citizens who even have the possibility of traveling abroad.
But no. I don’t want to. I just want to be petty. And stuff.
Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go eat a tomatoey brushetta.