An opinion growing

...I had always felt impassive towards Jeannie, but more and more I felt an opinion growing. And perhaps, it says more about me than her, but she attempted style, which depressed me. And she has the habit of continuing, when we sit in neighboring stalls in the bathroom, her sweet but unnecessary chit-chat. And I often feel like saying outright "I will not respond to you as long as we are in here" But I never do, as it would beg a qualifying discussion, still seated, that would end in an unspoken concession that I am the weird one.

She had a boyfriend, apparently who gave her a “nice things” allowance. She shops at a store I loath called Rue 21. It is a store for bargain club wear, for sassy accessories, for pants that fall on the hip, for women who have other women as friends, and who date guys, and listen to the radio, which is why I loath it.

My boyfriend claims that Jeannie and women like her are “garish to the point of invisibility.”

My boyfriends assessment validates some kind of superiority, however, which makes me feel like a bitch, for even thinking these things.

Jeannie is nice.