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“This is like the perfect brunch Instagram,” she told Caroline while holding her phone across the table, fully displaying a photo of her filled-to-the-brim mimo juxtaposed next to her tossed salad and scrambled eggs with Caroline perfectly blurred in the background.
Caroline leaned forward and took off her Celine sunglasses, squinted, and asked if she’d turn her brightness up so she could see the photo post-filter. Once she obliged, Caroline looked again.
“Oh, em, gee,” she said. “Can you send that to me? Love, love, love.”
She knew that sending Caroline the photo before she posted it to Instagram would mean that Caroline would rush to post it first, which would just be a complete nightmare given how many likes one can get on a Sunday morning when everyone’s either hungover in bed or slowly drinking coffee while catching up on their feeds.
“My phone has been acting weird and not sending photos lately,” she explained to Caroline. “Idk what’s its deal is but I’ll try.”
Never even opening up her iMessage app, she immediately exported her photo from VSCO and queued it up into Instagram, ready to post but lacking a caption. She debated asking Caroline for help but hesitated for fear that Caroline would know that she was Instagramming it before actually sending it to her. After all, if Caroline had the photo in her possession, she’d have to be absolutely insane not to post it herself. It was perfectly luxurious and would probably get more attention should she post it herself.
Worried that a poor caption could ruin her chance at triple-digit likes, she had no other choice but to ask Caroline for a helping hand.
“Okay, I’m posting – what should I caption it?”
Caroline, upset that she wasn’t going to be able to post it herself, hesitated to truly help.
“What if you went, like, no caption?” she responded, knowing that would be an Instagram death wish.
“I was either thinking something like, ‘On Sundays, we brunch’ or ‘Brunch w/ bae’ or even the two girls dancing emoji.”
Caroline knew that “On Sundays, we brunch” would kill, but wanted to delay the inevitable posting in hopes that she’d forget to upload it after their second carafe of mimosas. Or, “car-UH-fay,” as they jokingly called it.
Attempting to change the subject to something non-Instagram related to further distract, Caroline chimed in, “Hey, did you ever talk to Todd about The Kentucky Derby? I think John is, like, still hungover.”
“Oh my God,” she began. “Todd is, like, swearing off drinking until Napa next weekend. I think they had a little too much fun.”
They laughed.
“I was so mad that Todd wasn’t responding to my texts all Friday and Saturday until he explained to me that your phone barely gets service at the track,” she told Caroline. “How was John even talking to you? Does he have Verizon or something?”
Caroline shrugged while pouring herself another to-the-brim blood orange mimosa while only picking at the crab cake part of her crab cake benedict attempting to avoid the hollandaise sauce at all costs. “Boys will be boys,” she finally added with a slight slur in her speech.
Still worried about her caption, she shoved Todd’s absentmindedness to the back of her thoughts before typing in her passcode – “8633” – and reopening Instagram. Running various Justin Bieber, Rihanna, and Drake lyrics through her head hoping to come up with a brunch pun using one of them, she was simply coming up short.
“‘Go brunch yourself’ just doesn’t work,” she thought. “And if I do ‘brunch brunch brunch brunch brunch,’ people won’t actually read it the tone of ‘Work’ by Rihanna.”
Feeling somewhat defeated and desperate, she pressed back and discarded all the changes made to the photo in an effort to go back to her feed. After clicking the heart and going to her “Following” feed, she began to look to see what other friends were doing at the time (mainly to see if there were a lot of people liking photos in that very moment) to draw some inspiration. As she scrolled down the feed, something caught her eye and she clicked into the girl’s profile.
“Huh,” she thought to herself. “Like, who even makes their profile private these days?”
Clicking out of the app, she opened up her iMessage and began typing to Todd.
“Who is this Claire girl that you just started following?” .
Image via Shutterstock
I got in trouble and had to stop following TFM girls. So this resonates
If this doesn’t happen at least once in your relationship, your girlfriend doesn’t really like you that much.
I thought that and then I dated somebody who isn’t a complete crazy person for a change.
Thank God Snapchat doesn’t show following notifications.
My Uncle Joseph just got a new yellow Infiniti QX60 Hybrid just by some part-time working online with a macbook.
Check Out This Site —->>> http://WWW.TodayWeb60.Com
Hate to break it to you Livy, but your Uncle Joe is a male prostitute. Enjoy Thanksgiving.
Nice sign me up!
Got in trouble? Does your mom keep tabs on your Instagram?
Nah, but your mom favorites all mine.
Todd is lowkey sabotaging himself in hopes that girl catches on and dumps his ass. Could this be the first smart move Todd has made?
Using your shitty service provider as an excuse for not texting back. PGP.
I bet Claire’s insta is fire. Get it, Todd.
Power Move by Todd, he knew she would see that. The ball is in his court now.
So many irritating little things in this: the fact that Caroline would even think of posting Girl’s photo–that’s not even her meal, the entire thought process of Girl in coming up with, and (of course) ultimately falling short of, an Insta caption, and finally that Caroline is trying to avoid the hollandaise sauce…what a wasteful idiot, brunch isn’t supposed to be healthy.
Women, am I right?
I’m exhausted by my own kind sometimes.
Sup?
Todd right now:
The Instagram follow is the first stop on your way to bone town. Go Todd
I hate when girls do this shit.
Make your name their password?
I hate myself for not catching that.
Did Will’s ex (or current) have her pass code set as 9455?
Ha, no.
Fuck.
This is about to get Nuclear. Having said that, I can’t wait.