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The week just blew by with nothing to report. Well, okay, two sidenotes, maybe. One was that Li, my boss, asked Ree for some help translating some rare (very) old books he’d just acquired, probably just enough to help him list them in the shop’s online catalogue (you guys remember that cryptolinguistics is my bestie’s whole thing, yeah?). She shot an accusatory look my way and said “sure” since she didn’t have anything else to do this weekend.

(I knew it. I knew she wasn’t going to let this Quinton Nash yacht excursion with Triz just go snark-free.)

And the other li’l tidbit was Li found my glasses! But he found them on the sidewalk outside the store which doesn’t make any sense. If they had fallen off while I was riding my bike, I would’ve stopped to find ‘em, right? And would’ve definitely remembered doing that....

Anyway, Friday came and, after her full day at QuantUmYeah and then her 7 o’clock class at UCEM (I don’t know how she does it without superpowers of her own), Triz grabbed me and we drove out to another small island that Quinton owns. This one doesn’t have a name and just serves as a private dock for his yacht.

The yacht! Just seeing that thing up close was enough to instill some serious imposter syndrome in yours truly. What was I doing here with my cheap overnight rolly bag (22.95 at Target)? And though she hid it well, I could tell Triz was feeling the same way.

As the summer sun finally started to set at nearly 9 PM, Quinton Nash (with his ever-present shadow Mrs. Oni) was there to greet us and play it all off super chill and kind of gross which I think is kind of his default setting. He looked Triz up and down and said it was “about time I got you on my dinghy.” Can you believe that? The nerve of that guy - flirting with my pretend girlfriend right in front of me!

She sidestepped that and truthfully praised the ridiculously awesome boat which allowed Quinton to start humble-bragging about its size, horsepower, speed, how many rooms it has, the pool, the helipad, etc. It was all kind of dizzying and I tuned it out though I did catch the bit about how it got its name.

“When I first had this baby designed, I was full-on gonna call her The Lusitanic - like a combo of-“

“The Lusitania and the Titanic,” Triz played along.

“Yeah! How baller would that have been! But, uh, some people suggested that could be bad luck.”

“And not in the best of taste?” I added, though he didn’t seem to register me.

“So, instead, I decided to name her in honor of this one total douchebucket who used to pick on me in sixth grade for still having toys.” He started getting a little red in the face, clearly still dealing with his issues, “They were ‘action figures!’ And I didn’t play with them! They stayed mint-on-card! They were an investment!”

With a deep, corrective breath, he calmed down and put the smug smile back on his face. He ordered the gangplank lowered and Triz and I boarded Quinton Nash’s multi-million dollar yacht, the Suck It, Kurt Melnick.

Description
The week just blew by with nothing to report. Well, okay, two sidenotes, maybe. One was that Li, my boss, asked Ree for some help translating some rare (very) old books he’d just acquired, probably just enough to help him list them in the shop’s online catalogue (you guys remember that cryptolinguistics is my bestie’s whole thing, yeah?). She shot an accusatory look my way and said “sure” since she didn’t have anything else to do this weekend.

(I knew it. I knew she wasn’t going to let this Quinton Nash yacht excursion with Triz just go snark-free.)

And the other li’l tidbit was Li found my glasses! But he found them on the sidewalk outside the store which doesn’t make any sense. If they had fallen off while I was riding my bike, I would’ve stopped to find ‘em, right? And would’ve definitely remembered doing that....

Anyway, Friday came and, after her full day at QuantUmYeah and then her 7 o’clock class at UCEM (I don’t know how she does it without superpowers of her own), Triz grabbed me and we drove out to another small island that Quinton owns. This one doesn’t have a name and just serves as a private dock for his yacht.

The yacht! Just seeing that thing up close was enough to instill some serious imposter syndrome in yours truly. What was I doing here with my cheap overnight rolly bag (22.95 at Target)? And though she hid it well, I could tell Triz was feeling the same way.

As the summer sun finally started to set at nearly 9 PM, Quinton Nash (with his ever-present shadow Mrs. Oni) was there to greet us and play it all off super chill and kind of gross which I think is kind of his default setting. He looked Triz up and down and said it was “about time I got you on my dinghy.” Can you believe that? The nerve of that guy - flirting with my pretend girlfriend right in front of me!

She sidestepped that and truthfully praised the ridiculously awesome boat which allowed Quinton to start humble-bragging about its size, horsepower, speed, how many rooms it has, the pool, the helipad, etc. It was all kind of dizzying and I tuned it out though I did catch the bit about how it got its name.

“When I first had this baby designed, I was full-on gonna call her The Lusitanic - like a combo of-“

“The Lusitania and the Titanic,” Triz played along.

“Yeah! How baller would that have been! But, uh, some people suggested that could be bad luck.”

“And not in the best of taste?” I added, though he didn’t seem to register me.

“So, instead, I decided to name her in honor of this one total douchebucket who used to pick on me in sixth grade for still having toys.” He started getting a little red in the face, clearly still dealing with his issues, “They were ‘action figures!’ And I didn’t play with them! They stayed mint-on-card! They were an investment!”

With a deep, corrective breath, he calmed down and put the smug smile back on his face. He ordered the gangplank lowered and Triz and I boarded Quinton Nash’s multi-million dollar yacht, the Suck It, Kurt Melnick.