mistconduct | Issue #60

Issue #60

[Locked from Cassel]

So say you're planning a trip to meet your boyfriend's family.

And said boyfriend's mom is complete and total psychopath who can fuck with your mind if she touches you.

And you think maybe you should actually try to get along with these complete strangers because maybe, someday in the far, far off future you might actually see yourself getting together with this fucking idiot with stupid hair.

What kind of gift do you bring?

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Shut up, Mindy. I'm being serious.

[ ...there's a pause and a tilt of the head, as Mindy tries to actually think on this. ]

Jesus, you are epically serious about this. About him>.

Holy shit.

[Oh hi, uncomfortable shifting]

What?

God, what? I'm not allowed to be serious for two real seconds?

[ She's not sure what to think, or how to feel. ]

You seriously get all the luck, you shit. [ And the jealousy is well worn, a comfortable blanket to wrap up in. Of course he's in love. Of course he's happy. Of course. ]

[ She just has to accept she lost this particular game of life and get over it. ]

Just be yourself. She'll figure out you love him beyond the pale and that'll be enough. Bring a nice bottle of wine or something else she can't easily get -- but isn't super expensive because you don't want to look like you're buying her off cause nothing pisses off a bitch-queen like the idea she's some whore you can pay off -- even if it's true. Which is might be with this lady, you don't know. Or maybe you do.

There. Shit, man, how hard was that?

[In all seriousness]

Yeah, I am pretty goddamn lucky.

She's kind of a terrible mom, though. I still haven't figured out her dynamics and whether she even gives a crap about Cassel or if she's just super-absorbed or what.

Wine. Okay. Fine.

Wait, how the fuck do you know about any of this?

Last I checked I was a girl and I know how I liked to be treated, dumbass.

Also, it sounds like she's just a bigger version of a high school queen bee, so-- yeah, I know how that works. And how it can blow up in your face, too.

Edited 2014-09-15 18:14 (UTC)

You're also like fourteen.

I'm sixteen now, you tit. I'll be seventeen in April, remember?

I do. Holy shit, I remember when you were this tiny..

Anyway.

If I come back with my head all wrong because I brought her white wine and she likes red, I'm blaming you.