kafkaesque: having a nightmarishly complex, bizarre, or illogical quality.
“I’ve never seen that before, it’s always on Netflix but I’ve never bothered to actually watch it. I take it that it must be good though, sounds like you liked it.” She commented, taking note that she’d have to try the show as soon as she got back home and on her computer. “I’ll keep an eye out for your name and face in the New York Times.” Sophia quipped, smirking lightly as she turned onto her back. “You’re not, unless you are now, in that case I’d advise against it.” She said. “I like talking to people, I’m not going to avoid her.”
“It’s probably the best show ever.” And it wasn’t just because he could relate to the pudgy thirty year old man who drank his life away with his illegitimate father in a shoe box of a home. “Oh yeah, you should. Have you tried to Google me yet?” He asked, as if she had the time to Google someone she barely even knew. “My Linkedin account is on there. Who knew that law school would be so important?” He shook his head, though it was a struggle considering his head was resting on a flat surface. One, quivering hand reached down to rest at her shoulder tentatively, attempting to bring her closer. He didn’t know what he was doing, but he had been following his instincts ever since he was texting her.