Seven Against Memes

>be you
>autistic loser who complains about ‘SJWs' and stopped visiting cracked.com because 'it got taken over by feminists’
>spends time on fandom imageboards, tacitly supports the GamerGate movement
>just generally an all-around neckbeard

>stop by a coffee shop for a snack on your way to school/uni/dead-end-job
>try to sit in a somewhat secluded area because you are insecure about people thinking you a faggot for eating alone
>mess around on your smartphone so it looks like you are actually doing something
>as you are about to walk out, you see a qt3.14159 golden-blonde teen sipping tea and typing on a laptop
>she is so hipster that even the mocha frappulate shit is too mainstream for her
>her sweater looks like it was made by passing grey trash bags through a meat grinder and then putting them back together
>huge horn-rimmed glasses that probably aren’t even prescription
>she pours a bunch of nonfat milk into her tea
>fucking pleb

>you suddenly turn your face away and pretend you were just walking to the bathroom because she looks up at you
>goes back to whatever she was typing as you move past
>crane your neck to catch what she is doing
>writing a post on tumblr
>you can’t tell anything about her blog, but the very fact that she is a tumblr user knocks a few IQ points off of your mental conception of her
>probably one of those Dr. Who fangirls shitting up the web with poorly-edited gif sets
>you know, the type who will tell you ‘it is always Doctor Who, not Dr. Who’

>stand in the bathroom and look at yourself in the mirror for a few seconds
>pointlessly comb your hair with your fingers
>give yourself a frank expression, wondering what the point off all this nonsense is
>literally no fucking idea how you would start a conversation with a girl you don’t know
>tell yourself ‘fuck it, do it live’
>get a massive adrenaline rush just opening the bathroom door
>walk up to her almost automatically, not really thinking
>your head starts to feel really tight, like it’s getting sucked into a small point
>green fog seeps around your vision
>you are literally standing in front of her not saying anything
>you didn’t notice before, but her hair is literally floor-length, with flowers stuck around it
>huge green eyes
>to say she had bugbites on her chest would be too generous

>”D…do you watch…”
>being the aspie you are, you haven’t spoken out loud in a few hours, and you sound like a fucking chainsmoker
>she looks at you with the look reserved for that guy who shows up at your house selling magazine subscriptions before you politely decline
>you clear your throat quickly and try again
>”Do you watch Doctor Who…?”
>pockets are pretty much the conveyor belt in a spaghetti factory

>”Uhh yeah. Do you?”
>her voice is like heroin
>sounds so fucking mature but playful
>and her lips… she must spend hours just balming them up right, and then covering them with blood-red lipstick
>it leaves a red ring around the edge of her teacup

>”Yeah.”
>you lie. But you know enough about the show to maybe bullshit it. Weeping Angels, TARDIS, sonic screwdriver…
>”Want to sit down?” she asks
>yes, in your lap
>you sit in the empty chair next to her, not caring that all your stuff is back on a different table
>heartbeat is like a Kentucky Derby horse on PCP
>surprised the whole room isn’t shaking
>”So, how did you know I watched Doctor Who?”
>she talks without even looking up from her screen
>”I couldn’t help but notice you were on tumblr”
>god you sound like a faggot
>this gets her to pause
>she scrunches her eyebrows and gives you a funny glance

>”You know there is a lot on tumblr besides just Doctor Who…”
>”Y-yeah, yeah, of course. Yeah I love tumblr”
>”Do you have an account?”
>”No”
>there wasn’t really any way to bullshit that one, because she probably would have asked for your username
>she’s now looking really perplexed, maybe a bit uncomfortable
>you try to make things more casual

>”What’s your name?”
>”Rapunzel” she answers
>”I’m Anon.”
>fuck, Rapunzel, that’s one of those foreign names. Even her name is fucking absurd hipster shit
>her parents must have been professors at a liberal arts college or something

>now that you are sitting next to her you can see what she is actually writing
>blog is, you shit yourself not, ‘Confessions of a Sorry White Girl’
>you can make out one or two posts on the page beside what she is already writing
>all self-loathing stuff about white privilege and how oppressed minorities are
>your dick almost collapses the space-time continuum with how confused it is
>the libidinal equivalent of dividing by zero
>you are expecting at any second for her to start crucifying you for being a cis male, or asking if you were an ‘ally’ or some shit like that
>half consider pretending to be gay just so she’ll hate you less
>how the fuck is she so soft and cute? the only reason one would be SJW is to fuel their persecution complex from being an acne-covered landwhale

>”Well Anon, you should get a tumblr if you like it so much! It’s really fun”
>She gives you a tentative smile
>pic related
>”O… okay. What sort of things do you talk about?”
>you gesture towards her screen
>”Oh me? I usually just reblog and discuss stuff about injustice in our country. Like here…”
>she turns the screen to face you and starts scrolling down
>”… just yesterday here in our state there was a senator trying to make early-term abortions illegal”
>she purses her lips like she just told you Joseph Kony himself was your state rep
>you actually kind of agree with the senator
>”Haha… wow…” you mutter. “yeah on a site called reddit or something they were discussing that, I hear”
>you slip ‘reddit’ into the conversation just to gauge how Rapunzel would react, but made sure to imply you don’t actually visit it
>Rapunzel shirks back in distaste
>”I’m sure. I don’t like that site, it has a really toxic attitude. Like to the point of actively perpetuating rape culture.”
>she just used the words ‘rape culture’ unironically
>you can almost hear the sound of your brain’s processors clocking
>on one hand, you want to stab this sheltered rich girl in the face
>but on another even bigger hand, you want *her* to brutally stab *you* as punishment for all your arrogant male privilege
>literally staring at her while imagining her jack-hammering a butterfly knife through your ribs

>”M-me too” you reply at last
>”If you do make a Tumblr account, follow me at PunzieLemon”
>holy shit that is so saccharine
>”It’s rare to find a guy who stands with me on this sort of stuff. I’ll be honest, I tend to expect men to automatically think girls like me are crazy, but you seem different.”
>she thinks you are special
>you stupid fuck, your pathetic accommodationalism has made her think you agree with her radfem bullshit
>and yet, you are happy about it
>you are happy about being the thirsty neutered man who bends to the will of his SJW overlords in the hope of getting a taste of pussy
>literally the type of Sarkeesian-dick-sucking guy the entire GG movement is against

>you smile at her and then act curious about her drink
>”Is that tea?”
>”Uhuh! I only drink Earl Grey, white. But, you know, I kinda wish it was laced with PBR instead”
>she snickers, the sun twinkling in her fake glasses
>holy shit she is a walking stereotype
>lampshading.ref
>you look at your watch and feign worry
>”Damn, I gotta go. But I guess I’ll see you here again sometime… or over a PBR” you utter hopefully
>wish you could sit all day and just watch her run her tongue along those perfect lips
>”Of course! I’m starting at U.F. as an art student soon, so I hang around the area."
>her smile is much more genuine this time
>evidently she let her guard down once she (thought) she knew you weren’t a shitlord
>it would have been nice to get her number or address or something, but you can’t handle any more interaction right now
>need to sleep on all this and come back again with your shit sorted out
>stumble away from the hipster goddess in a fugue, collect your stuff, and leave
>the whole walk, you keep thinking about her nibbling on your jugular, leaving red kissy marks