Tennis on a Wednesday

Pooped Man, I’m pooped. I hate Melrose and Beverly Hills. LA and all its money. I mean I shouldn’t be embarrassed of my Old Navy jacket but when the sensor goes off and they ask me where I got my jacket, shame overrides all logic and all I want to do is run. I BOUGHT SOMETHING DIDN”T I?!? Fred Segal, that damn Ron Herman...I think this is where “they all” flock, those people they make reality show off of. I’ve been there a few times and spent way too much for a sandwich and walked around trying to be all uppity merely for acceptance and approval. BTW...It should come with the sandwich like a side of potato chip...seeing as I didn’t even get potato chip. They all have sweater sets and look like they are straight from a catalogue...very j crew. They kiss each other on the cheek because it’s a Wednesday and that’s a good day to play tennis and meet at Fred Segal’s for lunch. A few trendy women sit behind me talking about what they did last night (which was a Tuesday). “We all went to le duex….blah blah…” I wish I could stop listening. They kept going on about how one of them hooked up with a Wayne’s bro, “the one from major pain.” REALLY? Really? Your going sit here with you’re your ¼ eaten carb free sandwich (WHICH IS CALLED A SALAD DAMIT) pretty proud of yourself because you scored Major Pain; Because Major Pain bought you apple martins? I bet you when that girl wasn’t looking he asked for Ketel One instead of Greygoose. That guy hasn’t worked in years, please shut up. This is turning into an angsty girl blog. I am jealous of these pretty, perfect, size double zero people. Not cause their a double zero, or cause they got drunk off Ketel One and made out with Damon Wayne’s but because I am exhausted, I’m hungry cause I couldn't find the logic to spend an extra $5 for some fritos, I really do like the cloths at Ron Herman but can’t afford it, and I kind of want to play tennis on a Wednesday.