I guess I just always assumed those invites were… genuine? Not contingent on my ability to drop seventy bucks on a few rounds of artisanal cocktails. I mean, I can barely afford ramen right now, let alone whatever bespoke concoction ‘someone’ is ordering these days. It just feels like a kick in the teeth, after everything. Like, if I’m not useful, not contributing to the aesthetic of the group, then I just… vanish. It’s a stark reminder, I suppose, of how quickly things shift when you’re not prepared for them to, how little some things actually mean. I mean I don't even — whatever.