Interchangeable

his name is Chad or Brad. he's on a date at Starbucks with a girl who looks like she really wants to like him. he couldn't care less - or is that what he wants you to think? he sits like a guy who knows his trust fund will get him through his twenties and maybe beyond, or a surfer who knows he's secure in his masculinity even though he only started surfing in order to prove that, most likely to himself. there's no way to know what he's really thinking because his eyes have a carefully nonchalant expression, which he holds when the girl starts talking with her hands.

Chad or Brad is wearing knee-length khaki shorts with a frayed hem and flip flops, with a nondescript white tee shirt that is neither baggy nor tight, and does nothing to hint if he has a personality. his slight smirk suggests he wants you to guess how many women he's laid in the last two days. he probably called each of them an Uber after each girl talked about her feelings.

he is a mystery that you could crack by asking him to name his pronouns, to which he would either laugh and not know what pronouns are, let alone his pronouns, which seems the most likely option. he could also say what they are, which would make the maze of Chad or Brad's mind a bit more hard to solve. but sophisticated he is not. he shakes hands with the girl, who is wearing too much make-up, and leaves. I almost feel sorry for her. but then I remember she had just met a Chad or Brad, and she's better off dating someone with fewer Mommy and commitment issues.