If I see/hear/encounter/smell/touch one more instance of this “we are all” bull-pucky, I swear on a stack of ice cream that I am going to lose it.
Men are universal, women are not, and books about women are niche or genre novels, rather than being serious contenders for Next Great American Novel Status.
I’ve been approached or touched by more strangers in the past 7 months than in my entire native New Yorker life.
I’m not PhD material. Not because I’m not smart enough, but because I am simply unwilling to toil away for five years to eventually maybe get a job that I probably won’t enjoy a whole heck of a lot.
The woman also reached for her phone and began calling the police while spouting, “Imma have them lock you up for a hate crime if you touch me.”