The Drink is Bad, Sam

No. Sam. I don't think you understood what I said. The drink is gross. It's gross. It is not a good drink. So when you drink the drink? I need to see that you think that the drinking you're drinking isn't good. Because right now I see nothing. I don't see anything. I see nothing. And I get what you've said, that maybe you hate enough things already and you don't want to hate any more things, and I get that, I hear you, and I understand it. But—just remember—the drink is bad. Like, it's really bad. Like, how could anyone like this? And, in fact, moving beyond that, she becomes bad. And gross. And disgusting. Because here's this woman who's made you this drink, and she's gone on and on about how much she loves it, and how it's her specialty, and so she's really built it up. She really got you thinking that, hey, I'm about to swallow something pretty tasty. And then she hands you the cup, and the cup is a nice cup. And inside the nice cup is a pretty looking liquid. Like, the liquid itself looks nice. No one's saying the drink doesn't look nice. In fact, if the taste of the drink matched how it looked, it would be pretty goddamn delicious. So just think about that. That's the before. That's the backstory of you and the cup and the drink. And so that's your state of mind, and you raise the cup to your lips, and you tip it—you tip the cup—and the liquid pours in. The drink I mean. And it. Is. Foul. I mean it is just not what you were expecting at all. Like, at all. And now you're upset! Now you're mad! You're mad at her! At the cup! At the drink! But mostly, Sam, you're mad at yourself. You're mad at the drink, you hate the drink, but really you hate yourself. So show me that next time.