Witches

My mother’s friends came over. I listened in horror from an other room as a group of women in their late 50s-early 60s talked and squawked. I was going out and discovered that one of their cars was blocking mine. I would have to enter the den of mothers.

“Hi,” I said as I entered the room. “Hello!!!!!!” they responded, like I was a hot guy and they were a bunch of teen girls. I asked the car’s owner to move her car. As I was on my way out to the car, one of the other ladies had some exciting news for me.

“YOU WENT TO SCHOOL WITH MY DAUGHTER!!!!”
“Uh…?”
“LOUISE! LOUISE SMITH!!!!!!” [not her real name]
“Um… it sounds familiar.”
“I’VE SEEN YOUR PHOTO! YOU LOOK FAMILIAR!!!! SHE WAS FRIENDS WITH KAREN TRENT [not her real name] AND THOSE GIRLS!!!!!!”

Ah yes, “those girls”. They were the part of the popular group, but not the pretty popular girls at the core. They were the less attractive ones that had to work at being pretty. They were the freaky-skinny ones with the big perms (though this was at a time when big perms were cool for teenaged girls), who openly bitched about their friends when they weren’t around. I remember hearing one excellent bitching session during a geography class when Karen was described as looking like a witch after spending the night sleeping on someone’s couch after a party.

“Oh yeah, I remember her.”

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