Over coffee at the picnic-table in our campsite this morning, J and I discussed The Handmaid’s Tale, which we’ve been avidly watching. He noted, ironically of course, how the show has ruined so many things for him.
“Like what?’ I asked, semi-judgementally.
“These cars for instance- the Mercedes G-wagons they drive. I used to like them.”
“Ah,” I said. “I wonder how Mercedes feels about their branding these days after formerly being known as Kardashian-wagons. What else?”
He sat a moment and sipped his coffee.
“The color teal?” I offered.
“The name Lydia?”
A nod of agreement.
A look of utter shock and disgust.
“Corporal punishment then?”
“And cattle prods,” he added.