This is Heather and she is a social justice warrior. Heather is happily engaged to Tom, who has agreed to take her last name when they marry in a civil ceremony officiated by her former womyn's studies professor in the backyard of Ruth Bader Ginsburg's childhood home. When expressing her world view (which she does often), Heather refers to herself as a "cisgender female" but is quick to add that there are 51 acknowledged gender options. She knitted her own vagina hat for the Women's March in an effort to be ironic. Heather attended UC Berkeley and now runs a nonprofit committed to establishing and funding safe space crying rooms in 15,000 colleges and universities in the US by 2025. She is currently not speaking to Emily from work because she wears hoop earrings and that is cultural appropriation.
As Courtney was handed the rule pamphlet, she swore she saw the Da Vinci code. Symbols swirled around, English words became foreign and strange. She somehow now knows how to set up a VCR after reading them, but still does not quite understand how to win atMahjong.
Last week she ordered each of them one of those gadgets that shatters your car window in case of a full water immersion. She also ordered a wind up radio. You know, in case the power grid goes down. She changed the air filters in the house last month, and commented that Olive Garden is a heck of a deal if you get a family sized pan with a five dollar take-home add-on. She’s been cracking open a Bud heavy after yoga class lately, and finally decided to try out a MyPillow.
But here she sits, six years after her appointment with WIDK reporting on milk prices, beauty pageants, the occasional car theft, Alderman election scandals, and downtown green space clean up efforts. This stupid little town doesn’t deserve her. She’s meant for greatness, and she despises their perky greetings on the streets....
