Diet

A size six pair of tight fit, low rise, boot cut, perfect fade, True Religion jeans hang longingly in the darkest corner of my over-sized closet. The $179.00 price tag still dangles from one of the skinny belt loops. That image of them stored away, unloved burns a hole in my mind as I watch my roommate delicately pick out her third slice of pizza; a deep pan, meat lovers, thick crust filled with elastic cheesy greasy goodness. I let my eyes fall to the dirty table that my friends and I crowd around at a local pizza place. I gaze past the constellation of crumbs left littering our eating space; neglected by an underachieving waitress. Somehow, though, the previous tip seemed to interest her enough to be cleaned. If I had x-ray vision I would be able to look beyond the table and see the identical twin sister pair of True Religion jeans being worn comfortably by my roommate. I think back to January 1st when we had resolved to buy them together. The sales woman had lipstick smudged on her front two teeth, nude glaze. Her name tag read 'Shellay'. My roommate had walked to the sales counter and paid for her jeans. When it was my turn Shellay looked me up and down, her eyes lingered on my Lane Bryant shopping bag and she asked if I wanted the pants gift wrapped for only $2 more. I thought of her stained teeth and smiled, ""No, a bag is just fine". She handed me my receipt and rudely asserted the refund policy. I left the department store more resolved then when I had walked in. A loud distant growl brings me back to the present and everyone is staring at me. Someone's lips start to move in my direction but all I can think about at the moment is the six separate cheeses currently being melted down for a cheese lover's pizza, a pineapple being sliced for a Hawaiian personal pan for table three, and I think someone behind me washed her hair with a vanilla and brown sugar scented shampoo... I pick up my knife and check my teeth for lodged lettuce. The knife is frowning at me. I set it down.