Soulmate located: Myself

So I forward the below email I wrote to Goldrick to some friends, but did not do a clear job explaining that I was the author of the original email and Mclo writes back, wondering who this email is written by and why I'm not dating them. As she says, she thought I "found my soulmate."

People say things like "my soulmate was right under my nose the whole time!" but this is ridiculous. And yet possibly true.

Writing to you from a Starbucks, will send in email form later at home when I have internet. I am sitting here working on my thesis and ready to throw up in my mouth. In fact, I’m pretty sure I just did. This French couple (probably early 20s) have moved from a small table for two (at which they were sitting so close they basically exchanged molecules and became each other); they are now BOTH sitting in an armchair. You know, those armchairs meant for ONE, where is it NOT POSSIBLE that two people could be comfortable. They have systematically removed pieces of clothing so that she is now wearing a tank top and pants and he is wearing a tee shirt and jeans. There is a heap of clothes on the back of the armchair, abandoned as their MAKE-OUT session gets more and more intense. The most ridiculous thing is that I AM THE ONLY ONE WHO THINKS THIS IS WEIRD. Everyone else (and it’s pretty crowded!) is having casual conversations about their jobs and their relationships around me. It’s the pink elephant in Starbucks. Oh my god, now they are whispering in each others ears and he is caressing her back and… now he has stuck his tongue down her throat and I’m not sure I’ll ever be the same. It’s not even Valentine’s day! IT’S NOT EVEN FEBRUARY! I have to move home in June because I refuse to live in a country where the pink elephant in the room is a guy with a hard-on and a girl not wearing a bra. It is just so damn French.

P.S. I hope they name their child Frappacino.

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