personal anecdote about a Hillary Clinton supporter in 2016 - eviltoast

one of the funniest things i remember about the west coast hillary clinton crowd was exemplified through this interaction, which must have been the first night the MSNBC/CNN exclusive lib audience began to realize Trump had actually won. one of my roomates at the time - a greek PhD student (who surely came from money) and whos political views I would describe as “liberal progressive” (ardent Bernie supporter, didn’t like HRC, but was more or less a standard liberal socdem) - was poking fun at one of his horrific petty bourgeois colleagues who was a die-hard Hillary/Warren stan; my greek roomate and I talked loudly about how every poll showed Bernie doing better than Hillary against Trump - his friend, (who was a guy, late 20s) in the middle of a psychotic rant about how not enough people voted for Hillary, walked to our fridge, opened the door, and seeing the one red bull I had bought for myself, as a treat, to get me through what i expected would be a difficult morning tomorrow - he grabbed it, and just slammed it right in front of us, mid rant, screaming about how “it was her turn” in the most quintessentially lib-entitled tones; just opened our fridge, grabbed the single red bull in the fridge, and slammed it without a second thought. I remember staring at him blankly. He didn’t even blink, just continued his rant.

it’s so fucking funny, but this was a breakthrough moment for me where I realized, “oh, right - these are free to you at the billion dollar finance-tech amalgam you work for, you have no idea that I’m literally having an anxiety attack thinking about how I splurged on this $4 drink for once and you just gobbled it in front of me like a demon.”

I would never, in a million years, assume if I saw a single Red Bull or “specialty” type drink in someone else’s fridge that I could just help myself to it. like yes, we already all knew these people were the most entitled and out-of-touch children you will ever meet, but it kind of delights me that the “tell” that could give any of these creatures away, like the fucking creature in the Thing when you burn its blood, would be as simple as their lack of understanding of basic proletarian drink etiquette.

I still think about it to this day.