Sumn Slight

I'm sitting across from somebody who I don't really care to be with. Yet, choose to be with because of boredom and the way she looks. I guess the depth of her beauty could make up for the shallowness of her heart. She's one of the girls who dislikes other kids simply on how they dress. If they aren't wearing the right labels then she wouldn't talk to them. Since this is how her mind is set up, she makes sure she is fresh everyday. She made sure no matter who she runs into they would complement her on her outfit; like somehow the outward validation on something as trivial as apparel would make her feel good about herself. And it did. But I really can't talk; sometimes when I buy clothes I wonder if it's for me or the public's eye. I'm wearing Prada sneakers, a jacket from Neiman Marcus, D&G cords, and of course a bow tie. I can't talk about her without talking about myself, especially since I'm sitting right across from her in this overpriced salad bar in Gallery Place. She twiddles her fork around in the 14 dollar salad I bought her; trying not to look fat or just trying to piss me off. Either way she was accomplishing both. Every time she doesn't take a bite I wanted to just knock the fucking salad bowl on the floor. When she was not NOT eating, she was checking herself out in her pocket mirror--making sure she was as pretty as she was 5 seconds ago.
"Are you done?" I ask her.
"Yeah." She says, getting up from table, salad bowl in hand. "Thanks for the salad, boo." She says, giving me a kiss on the cheek and walking toward the trashcan where she would burn 14 dollars out my pocket. I just watch her as she throws away the salad. I get up. She straightens out her jacket and I rub a small smudge off of my shoe. She positions her skirt just right and I brush off whatever lint or debree may have fallen on my jacket since I've been sitting down, though there is none visible. She makes sure she is fresh and I make sure I am fresh. Together, we make sure we are made for each other or at least look like it.