The In Crowd
Last time I checked, high school was twenty years behind me. My first PTA meeting proved me wrong.
It was us and them, just like always. A glittering cadre of Jimmy Choos, spray-on tans, and the keys to Escalades hanging from Louis Vuitton key rings on one side of the room. An array of sweatshirt and jeans on the other, complete with grape jelly stains and bags grubby little fingers had groped through searching for lunch money and gum.
Now the cool girls’ badge is running the bake sale and taking playground duty. In crowd by tax bracket never changes.
Heh. Amy, they sound more like Ferragamo or Manolo types than Jimmy Choos.
Since I am now a paid-up member of the writing community, may I now comment on how writers are just like everyone else?
We all lust after StephL, we are all mostly broke, and we all want a good sentence.
Yay, Gus!!! That is so very cool!
they sound more like Ferragamo or Manolo types
Could be. I don't actually know one from the other very well. But they were also a weird mix of hometown South Philly with very new money and Manhattan taste.
We all lust after StephL, we are all mostly broke, and we all want a good sentence.
Quite true. Especially the...no, wait, all of it's especially true.
I think Jimmy's are a little exotic for most of them, is all. In the same way I wouldn't expect them to be wearing Robert Clergerie shoes, either.
BTW, ma'am, you have a chapter segment. Feedback is wanted, if and when anyone can deal with it.
Gus, of course you may comment. Writer! Isn't everyone in here a writer?
I've never heard of Robert Clergerie! This is what happens when Sex and the City ends. All my fashion comes from Target lately.
BTW, ma'am, you have a chapter segment.
If I gt my page quota done tomorrow, I promise will read and comment. I'm behind, though, and it's killing me. I would so much rather be reading Kinkaid goodness than writing the Crappy Book That's Going to Kill Me.
Gus, of course you may comment. Writer! Isn't everyone in here a writer?
Like that ever stopped me.
The In Crowd #2
He’s the new kid again. Here, it’s all skateboards and baggy jeans and thrash metal.
He can do that. What he can’t do is sit in the lunchroom alone anymore. Wait for them to decide he’s too skinny, too quiet, too poor stupid homely smart rich weird.
It’s just another set of rules. They change from town to town. Last time it was pot and too many nights watching Adam Sandler movies in a basement that smelled like wet laundry.
It’s insurance. It’s not getting cuffed against a locker. One day, he figures, he’ll have to do the cuffing himself.
