Table full of high-maintenance West Side bitches at La Salsa. You know the type; immaculately done up, thin, heavily made up, beautiful, carefully done hair, perpetually sour expression on their joyless faces due to spending all their time at the gym or shopping, rather than enjoying any of life's non-materialistic pleasures. One says to the other; "Dating sucks. The other night I went on a date, and the guy I'm out with asks me "What do you think of exisistentialism?" What a loser. Like I've cared about that since freshmen philosophy. Hello?"
She was right about one thing - dating her would suck.