Curiosity (bxb)

X: The Archer

A visual of Pike Place Chowder attached above. If you're ever in Seattle, do yourself good by trying it out.

Attached video: 'The Archer' (Lyric Video) – Taylor Swift

T O N I

In nature, the strong survive, while the weak perish. It's basic biology –– something called natural selection. For example, two primal males will fight to the death just to establish their dominance in the wild; just to stake their claim on resources, land or for a mate. This, of course, applies even to the most developed animals in the animal kingdom.

Us. The homo sapien.

But with our smarter brains, we as humans have instituted morals and laws, so that we're not required to kill one another –– like our more animalistic counterparts –– to survive. We are at the peak of the food chain because. . . well, the standard male and female have the mental capacity to understand civility. Surprisingly, even 21st-century men have adopted more civilized methods of displaying their testosterone, without having to rip out the enemy's jugular. A pissing contest, for instance, is the modern man's way of asserting that mine is, in fact, bigger than yours, so fuck off –– because that's mine. It's a gladiator match, but without the swords and the helmets and the blood. It's best to stay out of the crossfire though, despite the lack of hands-on violence.

Having said, what then should one do in the instance that they are caught in a pissing-contest between two very masculine, very intimidating men in a battle for dominance? My recommendation: pretend to stay undecided and occupied, browsing the menu for the umpteenth time, despite the menu only having, like, seven or eight choices of chowder and seafood sandwiches to pick from.

Yeah. . . I'm in an extremely awkward situation. Not to mention, Bellamy isn't here to save me from it, like some damsel in distress. He ran for the bathroom moments before we met up with Austin, crying about his bladder being 'so close to bursting'. He hasn't returned since, and that was probably ten minutes ago. Ten agonizing minutes of watching Tobi and Austin pretend to like each other, in an enclosed public realm, surrounded by the smell of fish and tourists yelling over their food in a foreign language, or snapping pictures of it at several angles to post later for Instagram.

#SendHelp

There's so much going on.

And this wasn't exactly part of the plan. I thought they could at least get through introductions and pleasantries without a hitch. But no! Watching these two shake hands was like watching a suspended arm-wrestling match –– biceps bulging and veins engorged all up and down their arms. I thought the little bones in their hands would break from how hard they gripped each other's hands. For heaven's sake, why must men have the most delicate egos?

And why are they even sizing each other up, to begin with? It really is beyond me. They just met for fuck's sake!

I was so deeply stuck in my thoughts, trying to decipher the issue between the two men on either side of me, that I almost missed the cashier sheepishly waving us over from behind her register. I put all the blame on these knuckleheads. The poor girl is petite, probably no older than twenty, all wide-eyed and mesmerized as she glances over the three of us.

"What can I– Uhm, what can I get for you guys?" she chokes, blushing furiously.

Tobi interjects before I can even mention a peep. "It's on me. So get whatever you guys want."

Not a moment later, Austin swoops in front of me too, so that they're shoulder-to-shoulder, as I get stuck behind the two of them. "No, please. I insist. I haven't seen Toni in a while, and you're his friends and all, so I'll pay." I don't like the way he said 'friend'. He all but gets in front of Tobi's face, despite the height difference. He's only a little taller than me, and several inches shorter than Tobi, so he actually has to look up. Oh my god, Austin has a death wish.