Wednesday, May. 07, 2003 - 2:50 p.m.

1:05 p.m. Having spent the last few days weary from obsessing I was looking forward to having lunch with a lawyer friend I�d like to get to know better and arrived at Barney Greengrass Restaurant located on the fifth floor of Barney�s department store in Beverly Hills feeling extra sporty wearing my favorite khaki pants.

1:15 p.m. Seated across from LawyerBoy It doesn�t take long for me to begin racking my brain as to why I was looking so forward to this lunch. Yawn.

1:30 p.m. Racking my brain for conversation that just wasn�t coming started me on a brand new slump.

2:05 p.m. Decide to shop a bit in an attempt to spend money I shouldn�t be spending in hopes of cheering myself up.

2:15 p.m. Exhausted from the struggle and my mood swinging from a fever pitch of insecurity, to an extreme I don�t give a shit attitude, to intense perverse self-scrutiny, to euphoric highs of esteem, to deep depression I attempt to rid built-up pressure left unreleased by "personal time" and decide to not let the not-so-subtle slam to my khaki pants go without rebuttal and join in the fight picked by two fashion fags decked out in matching Jean Paul Gautier skin-tight see-through bell-sleeved scooped-neck man-blouses giggling over by the Prada swimming briefs.

2:17 p.m. Nauseous from the combination of lunch and the persistent adrenaline pumping through my system since Friday, with shoulders back chest out chin up, I walk right up to the poisoned mouth FF and give voice to a four day inner rant and let him have it with, "Listen up girlfriend you wanna go somewhere other than on your sugar daddy�s errands and be somebody that pays his bills by means other than sucking dick then you better wise up cause what you got on isn�t displaying no killer cargo more like selling cheap skank."

2:18 p.m. Okay, maybe I hadn�t thought this through. Scuzzy-ass Fashion Fag had a reputation to maintain and a peer to impress. For a moment I thought he was going to gouge my eyes out with his boy-toy bling bling. Instead he lets me have it with, "You're just jealous cause you�ve got nothin' going on �cept a whole lota round edges making up one big blob of has-been singin� shoulda woulda coulda and you haven�t and you didn�t cause you couldn�t. You can only wish you knew what it�s like.

2:20 p.m. I�ve had enough fun. I�m ready to walk away yet can�t resist getting the last word by saying, "Ouch, Princess, straight through the heart." Not one for giving over the last word FF shoots back yapping, "Well let me tell you somethin� you don�t know old man, your claws ain�t sharp enough to scratch me."

2:21 p.m. In the not so far back of my mind I suspected he�d play the age card but yet was unprepared to hear the magic words, "old man." Rage replaced rant and as I unconsciously inched closer, hands slowly lifting toward his throat, and whispered in a tone that scared even me, "Don�t roll your eyes at me Ellie Mae. I�ll throw you through the fucking window."

2:46 p.m. In the car on my way back to work I wonder, "Who am I?"

�

previous - next