There I was, at my favorite local orange juice bar place, drinking my usual orange juice beverage.
And in walks Simone de Beauvoir. She drinks orange juice as if all of her existential thought has been squeezed into each drop.
She inhales sharply as I sit down next to her.
"America. I've come to find America, and what do I see? Disappointment."
I focus my eyes back onto my orange juice beverage, unable to meet her steady gaze.
She continues, "This is a country that denies the existence of evil." She swishes the remaining juice in the glass. There's not much left.
"This is a country where people expect to find themselves in the candy aisle of a drugstore. But they do not realize that behind all of the variety, all of the choix, as my people would say, is the same peanut taste. This is a conformity of monstrous proportions and it fills me with ennui."
"But you people are friendly," she said, trying to smile. "And the orange juice is good."
And in walks Simone de Beauvoir. She drinks orange juice as if all of her existential thought has been squeezed into each drop.
She inhales sharply as I sit down next to her.
"America. I've come to find America, and what do I see? Disappointment."
I focus my eyes back onto my orange juice beverage, unable to meet her steady gaze.
She continues, "This is a country that denies the existence of evil." She swishes the remaining juice in the glass. There's not much left.
"This is a country where people expect to find themselves in the candy aisle of a drugstore. But they do not realize that behind all of the variety, all of the choix, as my people would say, is the same peanut taste. This is a conformity of monstrous proportions and it fills me with ennui."
"But you people are friendly," she said, trying to smile. "And the orange juice is good."
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