The Lattepunk Reloaded
Lattepunk
I finally decided to grow up get a meal kit service (again!). So I’m doing research on that so I can start adulting better. In the meantime, I threw on the Katana Zero soundtrack and typed words into a blank void. Enjoy!
scena prima
This is my favorite moment with him. The clatter of glasses and the chatter of meaningless conversation surrounding us. Our favorite brewery wouldn’t seem like the most romantic of places, but it was our little escape.
Watching him get up to get another round usually had me deciding in which direction to take our conversation. Do I relay a silly coding mishap from my job? Maybe the tell him the hilarious story of Bonne’s date? Which was total chaos! That would make him smile. I’d most likely default to just asking him to keep telling me about the hooligans and clients he’d seen on his route. That’s guaranteed to make him smile, it always does.
Sitting here, having these silly thoughts, listening to the couple bickering if he should have one more. This is what I miss. Seeing him waiting in line, waiting to order our beers. A Double IPA Limited Release Batch for him, Pineapple Smoothie IPA for me. Him standing in line, fitted hoodie with the sleeves slightly pulled up. Enough to see the tattoos on his arms. His pants dusty from the mishap at work when a client confused him for someone else. His 3D printed sneakers with the absurd laces. It just...hurts...knowing this is what I missed every day.
Why am I doing this to myself?
He’s coming back to our table, beers in hand. The slight smile that shows he heard something funny that he just has to let me know about. Knowing what I know is about to happen, just makes it hurt more.
“Babe, the motherfucker in front of me just said the dumbest shit just now.” He slides my Pineapple Smoothie IPA in front of me. We lock eyes. “He was saying...babe? You okay? Why are you crying?”
“I...can’t do...this.” I wimper it to myself. My tears on the verge of becoming streams.
“What’s wrong? What do you meaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa...
...
...
I rip the headset off my face. My surroundings are now my apartment. Mattress on the floor, desk with my laptop on it, one dimly lit light in the corner. My dark, empty, shitty apartment. His voice barely audible in it’s paused state, waiting to resume once I’m ready to continue.
I can’t continue with this. I can’t continue like this. My tears of sadness turn to tears of rage.
“I’M GOING TO KILL EVERY LAST ONE OF YOU FUCKS!!!”
The rage leaves me with just the sadness. I’m going to cry myself to beg, again.
things i read
After Trump's Victory, the 4B Movement Is Spreading Across TikTok | Vittoria Elliott, Angela Watercutter for Wired
Mattel accidentally linked a porn site on Wicked doll packaging | Jess Weatherbed for The Verge
The AI Machine Gun of the Future Is Already Here | Jared Keller for Wired
The US Has a Cloned Sheep Contraband Problem | Matt Reynolds for Wired
Big Sneaker Brands Promised a 3D-Printed Revolution. These Are the Disrupters Making It Happen | Carlton Reid for Wired
She Was a Child Instagram Influencer. Her Fans Were Grown Men. | Jennifer Valentino-DeVries and Michael H. Keller for NY Times
'FYI. A Warrant Isn’t Needed': Secret Service Says You Agreed To Be Tracked With Location Data | Joseph Cox for 404 Media
Meta Horizon Worlds Has Been Taken Over by Children | Boone Ashworth for Wired
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