The thing is that one time I was in line for a public bathroom and the woman ahead of me had an uneven shoepolish-black bob, ripped jeans, and a badass leather jacket and she was day-drinking, and eventually, when she got to the front of the line, I saw her squat and set the open can down on the wet bathroom floor before going into the stall, aaaaand you’d assume that that would be that on that for me, but unfortunately, instead of reconsidering my assessment, my immediate reaction was “ohhh, so she likes beer!! Maybe I can use that fact to start a conversation somehow!!!” and so that’s when I first started to recognize that I apparently have kind of an eye for dirtbags—not a type, to be clear, just a flavor I have a decided appreciation for (liiike, I may not be a soda person, but every so often I will be tempted to drink a Dr Pepper, no?)—but enough that I ido sometimes doubt the validity of my taste occasionally, because like, yikes, but in any case, the point of this post was supposed to be that I’m finding this show unnecessarily hard to follow because I have so much energy focused on my assumption that Dulcie Deadloch is going to cheat on her kooky wife with Detective Eddie, and I’m just now starting to get the feeling that this is maybe not the response that they expect most people have to this scuzzy unwashed bogan loudmouth?
