Zitate
“How can you possibly be scrolling through Facebook right now, knowing we’re bound to be homeless in a few weeks?”
“Alcohol,” Dakota says, bringing a pink plastic cup up to her mouth and draining its contents.
“Alcohol,” Dakota says, bringing a pink plastic cup up to her mouth and draining its contents.
“Do you think I should add anything?” I whisper from the side of my mouth.
“Huh? Oh, uh . . .” She taps her chin. “Maybe something about His hair.”
“I don’t know what God’s hair looks like. Do you?”
“Uh . . . white and flowy?”
I look up toward the cracked ceiling. “And your hair is . . . magnificent. Do you use Herbal Essences?”
“I don’t think He needs to shower,” Dakota says, clicking on a picture of Anita’s baby to get a better look. “And He sure as shit isn’t using Herbal Essences.”
“Why the hell not?” I ask, sitting up and staring down at my friend.
“Because He’s God. Why use Herbal Essences when He created Paul Mitchell?”
Valid.
“Huh? Oh, uh . . .” She taps her chin. “Maybe something about His hair.”
“I don’t know what God’s hair looks like. Do you?”
“Uh . . . white and flowy?”
I look up toward the cracked ceiling. “And your hair is . . . magnificent. Do you use Herbal Essences?”
“I don’t think He needs to shower,” Dakota says, clicking on a picture of Anita’s baby to get a better look. “And He sure as shit isn’t using Herbal Essences.”
“Why the hell not?” I ask, sitting up and staring down at my friend.
“Because He’s God. Why use Herbal Essences when He created Paul Mitchell?”
Valid.
“Now, you just lie here while I order the cake, and we can try to figure out how to handle all of this. Don’t worry—we’ll keep this mental crisis to ourselves.”
“I’m not having a mental crisis.”
“Oh, honey.” I wince. “That’s what everyone says when they’re going through a mental crisis.”
“I’m not having a mental crisis.”
“Oh, honey.” I wince. “That’s what everyone says when they’re going through a mental crisis.”
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