Conversations overheard at Starbucks
“Oh my God, you know she’s just a gold digger.” One girl says to another while adjusting the straps to her Prada bag.
“I totally agree.” The other girl nods with her eyes transfix on the menu board over head.
“What is he? Like twice her age, he could be her father for Christ sake. And you know why guys like Nicolas Cage marry chicks like that, right?”
“Because she’s so young he can control her.”
“Not only that she’s Asian and you know about them. They let guys walk all over them then wipe the bottom of their shoes when they are done.”
“But she’s a gold digga, so you know it’s all an act.”
“Yeah, so fake.” The girl says as she tosses back her bleach blonde hair and then proceeds to tap her plastic nails on her plastic phone.
In the second line a man nudges his friend in the rib and lifts his chin towards the blonde with the Prada bag.
He leans in towards his good buddy and casually says in a lowered voice, “Nice tits.”
The other guys responds, “Maybe, but I hate fake. I like all real and jiggly.”
“I don’t give a rat’s ass. Saline, silicone, fat, bigger the better.”
“You are messed up, man. I want mine to move and not just point to the ceiling when she’s on her back. Natural the better all around, tits, ass, face.”
“Who cares if it’s plastic as long as they are...” the man makes two hand jesters that look like he’s turning huge knobs on a radio.
Behind them a woman is pouring Splenda into her already sweetened Latte and says under her breath, “Pig.” She realizes that she might have said it a bit loud and quickly hastens her speed as the necks of the two men start to crane backwards.
The two men chuckle and the one says to the other, “You are such a f*cking pig.”
A boy with his back to the counter looks up at the two men intently as his mother speaks on her cell phone and barista at the same time. Mr. Silicone jabs Mr. Natural in the ribs as he looks at the doe eyed boy and says, “Duude!” Mr. Natural realizes his faux pas and reels his neck back.
The woman at the counter holds tight to her son’s leash as it’s securely wrapped around his chest and arm pits. The boy starts to shake as if he is on a sugar high waiting for a weak moment to bust out to freedom and grass. The woman at the counter with her buttercup camel hair coat and perfectly groomed French nails slides to the next line to get the Grande, skim milk, decaf, sugar free caramel latte she just ordered.
She speaks on the phone, “But honey, I have to get my hair and nails done today, he can only fit me in today and you know I have to have him. Oh yeah you know that Prada purse I wanted?” her gaze drops back to the bleach blonde, “Forget about it, it looks cheap.”
The blonde’s friend overhears the comment and a warm smile spread across her lips, but she doesn’t say anything instead stands in line savoring the comment.
I picked up my coffee and newspaper and remembered why I like to brew my own.