Tantrum Warehouse
Tact Free Since 2003

Bus Stop Bitches

2004-05-12
The bus I ride in the morning is full of commuters, mostly men and mostly those of an age closer to my mother's than mine. But there is a crew of women in there. These women look like a grown-up version of a high school clique--the soccer moms.

The soccer moms wear taper-legged jeans and boxy emroidered jackets with shell buttons. They feather their hair and wear frosted eye shadow (and not the new sheer colors by Stila). They wear pearls with everything and tasteful gold studs. Their wedding rings are clusters of diamonds in yellow gold. They were acrylic nails.

Most mornings the soccer moms and I play a little game. I walk up to the bus stop and they turn their heads to glare at me.

This used to cause paranoia. I wondered if I had forgotten to wear pants, or had once flashed them in a bar or something.

I finally figured it out a few months ago. They are glaring at my clothes.

I work in a fashion company. Wearing cute clothes is pretty much a job requirement. By no means do I look as cute or fashionable as most of the women in my office. I am much more conservative than that. My shirts a little less fitted, skirts always below the knee. But I do not look middle America. Fuck, why should I? I am twenty-five not eighty-five. CHRIST. Besides, my idea of cute is all black with a colorful coat, nice handbag and hot shoes. ANYONE can do that. They choose not to. I am not judging them.

Well they judged me first.

So this morning they are in a little cluster and glaring at me again. And I realize that they are staring at my shoes. Which are DARLING but yes, they are four inch heels. Please, they make my calves look hot and its not like I walk anywhere.

Anyway, they must have been talking too much shit for people to take because the old fellow (who I adore and often sit by because he is so nice) says to me really loudly (he is old they talk loud), "well I think your shoes look REALLY nice."

Bitches. At least don't talk smack about me in front of the nice old man. He gets upset. And if you upset him I will have to take you down.

Besides, if you would stop wearing Keds and curling your fucking bangs like it is 1989 you could be cute too.

7:10 a.m. :: comment ::
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