Sunday, April 1

Huge Dork

We were all sitting around in the West Village, drinking nasty fruit-based sangria. We'd been there hours. We'd been there for so long that the waitress had moved us from our outside seats to couches inside. We'd played "what's a trilogy where the second movie is better than the first" and "who can spot the most eurotrash on MacDougal Street?"

Conversation wandered around, and it was only once we were all slightly tipsy that Jen revealed that in fact, she did have a gmail address.

"Really," I said, "then why have I been emailing you at el-crappo hotmail every day?"

"Oh," she said, "it's better that you do that. 'Cause I forward the gmail to my hotmail account."

I think I sputtered for a solid five minutes about how that was the most illogical thing ever, and then a friend, sitting next to me, said: "Just let it go."

"But I can't! I mean, I know I should shut up. It's just that I love the internet so much." File that under sentences I wish had only been said inside my head.

Related: HR agency automatically rejects all applicants who have a hotmail account, since the company's ad requested internet experience. (link via)

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