Under normal circumstances, the 16-minute pilot for the nouveau Williamsburg vomit fest YouTube reality show The Bedford Stop would send my eyes so far into the back of my head they would probably get stuck there, but today? Today, due to a medical ailment, I am high as a runaway blimp on prescription narcotics. I love The Bedford Stop, and you, and also you, and here is why.

Alex, the narrator, moved to Williamsburg after graduating from the Fashion Institute. Alex, if you're listening, you have beautiful hair and a wonderful sense of moxie. Can I have your sunglasses? No wait actually, they look better on you.

The Bedford Stop - Pilot - Tinder Me Softly from The Bedford Stop on Vimeo.

Sarah went back to art school but Alex claims "you wouldn't know it" because....unclear. Because she's drinking a glass of white wine? I guess unlikely art school students stick to chic beverages like fernet, or butane.

Olena is "fun to have around" because "you never know what's going to come out of her mouth." What comes out of her mouth is some garbage about never having this much fun again because soon (at 26?) she'll be old and wrinkly and bloated, like a balled up paper bag set adrift in the ocean. Oh, Olena, you hilarious ageist little shrew. I can't wait until all your hair falls out and you turn into a piss beetle.

Dance break: I thought I loved everything on Vicodin, but it turns out there are some things so viscerally repellant that even the power of high-dosage pain pills can't soften their edge. We're not even through the goddamn introduction yet. Someone please fax over some Oxy.

Melissa: No one ever knows where she is! (She's hiding.)

All these jumpy scenery shots are making me queasy!

Sarah and a friend briefly discuss brunch. Sarah rationalizes that she'll work out afterward. Sarah, you shimmering follicle, no one ever works out after brunch. Maybe you'll learn that in your late 20s, if you haven't turned into a saggy old bag by then.

Melissa asks Olena if she wants to go shopping. "I didn't even know you were home!" Olena says. Can anyone even see Melissa, or is she invisible? Or DEAD.

Olena can't go shopping, she is on Tinder. Olena's voice gives the back of my neck goosebumps, perhaps a sign that she's a ghost, too. I will be muting her from now on.

Brunch: Suddenly there are subtitles, though everyone appears to still be speaking in perfectly audible, unaccented English. Or are they speaking French and I suddenly UNDERSTAND FRENCH? The fuck dosage ARE these things?

At this point, Alex and Sarah are talking date locations. If these were my friends, this is the point at which I would excuse myself to go to the bathroom, where I'd spend a few minutes examining my teeth, hopeful that by the time I return, they'd have moved on to discussing something else less stupefying. I'm going to go do that now.

(Two minutes later, my teeth look fine.)

Olena is back, but I can't tell what she's said, because she is muted. But...I can still hear her voice. WHY?

"....I don't even know what to say," says Kait. (Not a name.) Olena looks like she's emitting some sort of high-pitched keen.

"Just wear your lingerie," says Kait. (Still not a name.)

I guess they're shopping now, but I've turned my attention elsewhere. Here's MY question, INTERNET: Who is the audience for this type of thing? If The Bedford Stop resembles your life, what's the appeal in watching it play out on screen? If it doesn't resemble your life, is it because your existence is based on more substantive stuff than finding a Tinder headshot that implies "husband hunting" rather than "sex acquaintance"? Are you watching this aspirationally? WHY? You don't want this life. How about just throw your laptop or tablet in the trash and pick up a nice Gogol or Henry Miller?

"I want a husband," I accidentally hear Olena say.

The end! Don't watch this.