Basic B*tch

Overheard at brunch — the Zoom edition

“Ohmygod I’m sorry

for the TMI but I need to tell someone: I haven’t pooped in so long, I’m in so much pain. This is literal hell.

“I can’t go. I can’t. There’s one bathroom. And when he goes, I can hear him — like, I can hear everything. It’s like he’s sitting on the toilet in the room with me, no matter where I am in the flat. And he has no idea. I went in the middle of the night the other week, like a turd burglar. Or whatever the opposite of a burglar is.

“Look, it’s not what either of us would have chosen in an ideal world. But it was either quarantine together or not see each other for god-knows-how-long. And it was at that weird three-month point.

“For the first week, I was around like an influencer — hanging out on the couch in full make-up and I had ordered a couple of those cropped co-ord off-the-shoulder lounge outfits in cream and grey, you know. I was prepared. Anyway, they went in the wash (30 degrees, I swear!) and came out destroyed.

And I can’t order fast fashion to here, he’s, like, practically an activist. So we’re both kind of sharing his pyjama bottoms. They’re too small.

“Our corona-drives are completely mismatched. Like, I can’t listen to it. He’d be blasting out the podcasts every morning and reading out the most depressing bits from The New York Times online. And I’m all: ‘Look at this cat meme, lol’.

“We were starting to get at each other. I know I’m not the tidiest to live with... but like, who’s going to be seeing the place other than us? We were just in each other’s faces too much... so I kiiiiiind of told him I’m working from home.

For a few hours every day, I just go into the box room and sit on the floor and watch America’s Next Top Model on the laptop, and he comes in every so often and apologises for disturbing and gives me tea. In fairness, he makes a great cup of tea.

“He’s actually really sweet. I think I really like him.”