Hard Review.

Your friends, you know, who are sweating and drunk, in the corner of some cavernous Lower East Side beer hall, will all be talking together, perhaps at some point, about you, and the same will be true when you die; they’ll be together again, in some cavernous Lower East Side funeral home, deciding what your life—that unfair task, that series of unpaid internships—meant. And what it will amount to is what it meant to them. That will be your life, when someone says, “Oh, she was so ______________”