“Let’s Just See Where the Night Takes Us” Leads Gen Z Friends to Argue in Albuquerque Walmart Parking Lot for 45 Minutes

No Cap

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I guess this is where the night took them. Walmart...

ALBUQUERQUE, NM — A vibe of limitless potential flatlined into a full-send into the void Friday night, as four Gen Z friends, committed to the aesthetic of “keeping it low-key,” spent 45 minutes stalled in a Walmart parking lot off Coors Blvd.

The evening began after a main-character moment at a sopaipilla spot, where the group, fueled by sugar and collective delulu, unanimously rejected the concept of making “a whole entire plan.”

“The fit was fire, the energy was immaculate… we were just gonna let the rizz of the night take the wheel,” said Chloe, 23, from the driver’s seat of her 2012 Honda Civic, now a prison on wheels. “We were like, ‘Bet. No cap. Let’s just see where the night takes us.’ And then the night took us here. To Walmart. And left us on read.”

What followed was a masterclass in group delulu, set against the Sandia Mountains and the haunting glow of the Walmart sign.

The first suggestion—“maybe just get a drink or something”—immediately splintered into cascading Ls.

Gen Z Friends to Argue

“Mark was like, ‘Let’s low-key slide into that new boba place in Nob Hill,’” recounted Derek, captive in the backseat, currently documenting his feet on an ironic Story. “And Sarah hit him with, ‘The parking there is literally giving… main character energy. I can’t.’ Like, it’s giving… drama.”

Sarah, the passenger, fired back: “Okay, but then you suggested the casino, and the constant dinging is giving Grandpa-core. It’s literally triggering my fight or flight. Not slay.”

The debate escalated to a more philosophical level.

“I was like, ‘What if we just send it to Sandia Crest? For the aesthetic? The pic would go crazy,’” Mark said, defensively adjusting his beanie. “And Derek hit me with, ‘Bro, my car snacks aren’t Crest-worthy.’ I can’t. I literally can’t.”

Derek, not looking up from his phone, added: “You have, like, three Takis and a warm Capri Sun. That’s a ‘sitting in a parking lot because we have no rizz’ snack, not a ‘watching the sunset from a mountain’ snack. It’s giving broke. The math isn’t mathing.”

The argument’s final phase: recycling vetoed ideas with new, increasingly unhinged justification.

“We were in a stalley so hard,” Chloe muttered, the group chat on her phone blowing up with nothing. “Sarah was like, ‘Hear me out… what if we go to the Frontier and order one sweet roll and four forks for the plot?’ And we all just stared at her. It was 9 PM. We’d already eaten. It was giving… cry for help.”

Walmart customers reported seeing the unmoving car, its occupants communicating through silent, hand-talky gestures typical of a generation raised on FaceTime.

“I passed them three times,” said local shopper Brenda Mills, 68. “They were all on their little rectangles, making those little… sighing sounds. One of them said something about the blinker being a sign from the universe, and another said, ‘It’s not that deep, bestie.’ I don’t know what any of it means.”

Experts cite “Decision Fatigue Delulu,” a condition where a generation overwhelmed by infinite streaming options and 37 oat milks short-circuits when faced with IRL choices not involving a dropdown menu.

“We were so close to just putting the car in drive,” Chloe sighed. “But then Derek said, ‘Low-key, the mountain view from here is kinda giving,’ and we all side-eyed him into the shadow realm. We’re parked next to a discarded microwave, Derek. It’s not giving. It’s giving… sad.”

At press time, the group had reached a tense, soul-crushing compromise: they were walking inside Walmart “to just see if it gives.” Their location is listed as Aisle 7, having a passive-aggressive conflict via group chat over whether the

‘Hatch Green Chile’ car freshener is a want or a need.

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#genz #nocap #delulu #craycray #friends #hardnews Gen Z Friends to Argue.