So Friend X was excited about Date P coming to town from San Fran and introducing The Crew to Date P. Friend X prefaced us -- Date P is real fresa: preppy, rich, pretty, light, stuck up, from money, etc...
Date P and sisters, let's call them Hocus Pocus Latina style (except not funny or charming at all), came into town to see Laura Pausini. Real fresa style, the Hocus Pocus sisters flew in from Mexico to L.A. just to see the concert. Puff puff, as Joan Rivers would say.
So Saturday Friend X introduced Date P, the Hocus Pocus sisters, and The Crew. It was real like this. Like Date P and the Hocus Pocus sisters didn't expect a black person to be in the mix. Except, like the picture you saw, when I extended my smile and a hand... they didn't even reach back. That's nice. Not.
And Friend X noticed and didn't do anything about it. That's nice. Not.
Is it a pre-requisite that Dates and The Crew at least have respect for each other? Do you need to like your friends' dates? Do they need to like you? Hmmm... What do you think? Is it a package deal? I don't think anyone needs anyone's approval, however, when a glaring red-flag like rudeness, snubbing, rejection come up, especially to your friends... it's like... HELLO. A red flag.
Well, true to Hocus Pocus style, when the night was over, which crew of fresas were first in line at the hot dog stand? Buying and eating up a storm of L.A. after-hour delicacies -- hotdogs, wrapped in bacon, topped with jalapenos, onions, mayonnaise, etc... I call 'em Danger Dogs because the late night calories are dangerous and a formula for diet disaster. Hmmm...
I guess the Hocus Pocus fresas are not too good to be seen eating in public, at 3 am, in a busy valet parking lot. I hope the fresas turn into gordas. Well, they kinda already are... but a little bit of money can buy clothes that hide what nature has amply provided.
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