Cos-no Girl



Since I had gotten stood up again for lunch, what do you mean you aren't going to be in the office? I'm going to be here! Tell your boss you don't really want to take notes at her silly little meeting, my lunch hour is sacrosanct! . Oddly, the boss and the meeting won. Damn.

This wouldn't be a problem except that my house ate my most recent library book. I can eat by myself, I do it all the damn time, thanks lunch buddy! but I can not eat by myself with out something to read. I've tried and I can't. Okay, I can but I look like a pathetic dweeb with no friends and that look doesn't work for me.

So off I went to find a friend to eat with. I checked my old Rolodex and everybody else was busy or married or in childbirth or something and I really had to scrape the bottom of the barrel.

Written in purple lip liner on a three-year-old receipt from the Nordstrom purse department under the heading "For a Good Time Call" was my savior.

Cosmopoliton!!!!

I haven't on purpose read an entire Cosmo since college. I subscribed back then because I looked around one day and realized that all my girl friends were actually gay men. I missed talking to chicks. I wanted to hear about all the girly things that if I actually had any female friends we would no doubt spend all our time talking about. I read a couple of issues and it turned out that we would talk about dicks - which was pretty much what my gay male friends and I talked about, but I wanted to talk about dicks with people who didn't actually have their own. So I became a Cosmo Girl.

Kind of.

Cosmo girls seemed to have a lot of cash and free time and they all had really great hair and had more then two pairs of shoes - neither of which were off brand sneakers from K-mart and they seemed to spend very little of their endless free time watching Star Trek - The Next Generation reruns in the lobbies of boys dorms.

If the Cosmo girls had jobs, they had really cool jobs that did not require them to wear bow ties or make change. They got to travel to really cool places and needless to say, they worked with really cool guys too. The coolest guys I knew snapped along with The Adams Family theme at the movies. Cosmos girls didn't hang out with guys who snapped along with sound tracks.

Which shocked the hell out of me. "What do you mean these guys aren't cool? These are the only straight men I know who aren't also Theatre Majors! These guys are General Studies majors, the only show tunes they're familiar with come from Tommy! They aren't given to singing the theme to Gilligans' Island in the cafeteria! Or grabbing passing chicks and making them waltz in front of the Business Building! Come on! These guys are great!"

Real Cosmo girls don't know any of the guys I hung out with. They hung around exclusive clubs with Deeter while I was hanging around boys dorms with Wayne. I didn't even get much girl talk out of my magazines because once the guy's always stole it from me.

Anyway. Right after I picked my buddy up for lunch up, I didn't get my automatic put down from it, Burger King stepped in and declined my card because VISA thought that I spent too much money yesterday on flea meds and they felt the best way to share that they thought there had been some "suspicious" activity on my card was to have some guy in paper tell me to hit the street.

The $480 I spent last month for a computer wasn't an issue, this month $48! in! a! single! day! and VISA is on the hotline to Homeland Security.

Real Cosmo girls always have someone else buy their lunch.