Get ready to literally just kill yourself, because the situation currently unfolding is gonna make the next 35 minutes truly unbearable: The thing you friend ordered at dinner looks way better than the thing you ordered.
Of fucking course it does. It’s always something with this bitch.
Let’s face it: this meal wasn’t off to a good start anyway. First, your friend didn’t arrive until 7:30, despite the fact that you she’s the one who insisted on 7:15. Then, without even asking how you’re doing, she proceeded to monologue all about how she’s in love with a new guy from Tinder, even though you’ve been single for a lot longer than she has, and if either of you deserve to find love from a dating app, it’s obviously you. But the nail in the coffin came the moment your food arrived, and hers looked WAYYYY better than yours.
God fucking dammit. She probably didn’t even realize this was something you could order until you mentioned it was one of the two things you were considering. You just hadddd to open your big trap, didn’t you?
Now you’ve got a plate of food that looks like it’s from an entirely different kitchen than the one that made hers—like, that’s how much tastier hers looks. Not that you would ever actually let on that yours isn’t good—when she asked how it was, you obviously said it was amazing, even though it’s mediocre at best and you definitely could have made it better at home.
To make matters worse, she’s barely even eating it because of her thinly veiled eating disorder. AT LEAST EAT IT, GIRL! God, now not only does she have the better food, she’s also going to be skinnier. She might as well just take a knife to your face, rip it off, and start wearing it around like a mask, because it’s never gonna be enough until she takes everything from you.
This. Fucking. Bitch.
It’s always something with her. It really is. Let’s hope she starts shoveling this food down her gullet ASAP, because you’ve got to get the hell out of here. This sucks.