bekah brunstetter
Bekah Brunstetter I care deeply. About a lot of things. Like really, really deep. Ow
playwright in brooklyn, NY


May 22nd, 2013 by Bekah Brunstetter

I’ve been having this dark, secrety desire lately. I was hoping that if I ignored it, it might pass, like that time I wanted to tattoo a pencil on my stomach, but it just won’t go away. And so, I publicly announce, I KIND OF WANT A BMW AND I DON’T CARE WHO KNOWS IT. WHO AM I RIGHT NOW?  I have never much cared  about my ride, as long as the doors, are, say, attached to the car with more than just duct tape, which wasn’t necessarily always the case in high school, and that there was a plethora of rearview mirror space around which to hang various beads and small inflatable parrots I’d shoplifted from Party City. But spending so much time in my car kind of makes me want a sweet one. I’m sniffing around this 3 series, which is surprisingly affordable. It will be a swanky, light Tarheel blue, and will ensure that I really not know who I am anymore. I’d like to now open floor for questions, comments, snark and concerns from assorted Male Brunstetters.

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