John Mulaney | The Salt & Pepper Diner
THE BEST JOKE IN EXISTENCE
like literal tears.
Usually when I say I’m crying on this website, I’m lying and its an emotional exaggeration
but not this time
do you ever realize that your followers aren’t just a number
they’re real people with jobs and pets and possibly an annoying neighbor
you have real people who like you
i don’t say it often enough, but to all you lovely people who decided to follow me, thank you. it means the absolute world to me.
it makes me uncomfortable that they dont shoot movie scenes in order
not wanting to date someone because you aren’t physically attracted to them doesn’t make you an asshole
wanting to sit at home watching TV instead of hanging out with people doesn’t make you an asshole
cutting off a friendship that was not satisfying to you doesn’t make you an asshole
i love people responding to their pets’ noises with ‘i know’
"I got into acting essentially because I love science. I was pre-med in college, and a very long story short, I went to an all girls school most of my life. And I switched to a huge co-ed school that I was not used to, and started taking acting classes outside of it, some sort of outlet that I could enjoy. The coach said, “You could do this professionally. Have you thought about it?” So when I came out here for college, I sort of attempted both. I thought okay, I’ll major in molecular biology as well as pursue acting, and that’s how. I got really lucky a couple months into and booked a show for HBO called 12 Miles of Bad Road, in a nutshell.”
Academically, Lydia’s one of the finest students I’ve ever had. Her A.P. classes push her G.P.A. above a 5.0. I’d actually like to have her I.Q. tested. And socially she displays outstanding leadership qualities. I mean, she’s a real leader.
As far as summer jobs go, it could be a lot worse. Danny had been working at the Seawolf Beach Resort every summer since he was 15, mainly because Jackson and Lydia were members. And when Scott and Stiles had overheard Danny talking about his job at the end of last semester, they had pestered him until he got them jobs, too.
Scott wasn’t so sure about spending an entire summer with Danny, Jackson, and Lydia, but Stiles told him to focus on the entire summer at the beach part and not the other part.
But it wasn’t like it’d been in high school. Three years of playing college lacrosse together had made them friends with Danny and tolerable to Jackson, while Lydia and Stiles’ mutual love for science and research had formed a strange bond between the two. But Scott needn’t have worried anyway.
They’d barely seen them over the last few weeks. Lydia and Jackson didn’t work, so they did whatever they wanted, Scott worked activities, Stiles waited tables and worked private parties, and Danny was a lifeguard.
With Derek Hale and his grumpy face and perfect body. The lunch rush keeps Stiles busy, but the midday lull has him leaning against the railing on the deck overlooking the surf. The view is spectacular. The restaurant is connected to the resort, so it’s right on the beach. The island is small enough that the beaches aren’t overpopulated and cluttered with tourists and people.
All Stiles can see is white sand, blue water, and crashing waves. A few umbrellas and people on beach towels dot the sand, a volleyball net surrounded by a group of teens is farther down the beach, along with the pier in the distance.
But best of all, from this vantage point Stiles can openly stare at Derek. It’s not like Stiles was the only person at the beach who ogled Derek daily. The man was ripped. And gorgeous. And positively the most annoying person Stiles had ever met.
Derek co-owned the Seawolf Resort with his sister and uncle. But unlike Laura and Peter, Derek had very little to do with the employees, which Stiles was grateful for. The few run-ins he’d had with the man were less than pleasant.
As if on cue, Derek turns in his tall lifeguard chair and glances behind him, right at Stiles. Who is leaning on his elbows, staring. Stiles shoots up and pretends to be wiping down the railing. Which is about the least subtle thing he could have done. Smooth, Stilinski. Real smooth.