I was at the movies tonight. Tommy and I saw Changing Lanes. I enjoyed it because it is the only movie I have ever seen to portray law students I recognize. I even saw a bit of myself in the two applicants. My old self. My I-want-to-be-a-lawyer-self of yore. I much prefer the current I-hate-all-this-law-crap-I-just-want-to-buy-a-boat-and-learn-to-sail-self. I'm not sure Tommy liked it. He seemed a bit ambivalent.

Prior to the movie, we were standing outside the theater debating about the time available to browse the used CD shop across the parking lot. The theater doors burst open and two blonde girls with little purses that they wore like this tumbled out into the air.

One of the girls, hereinafter referred to as "The Leader," pointed at the other girl, hereinafter known as "The Leader's Bitch." The Leader's Bitch took her tiny little purse off her shoulder and dug around in it for a moment. She produced a pack of cigarettes and a box of wooden kitchen matches. She gave The Leader a cigarette and lit it for her, then she lit her own. She squeeled a bit trying to avoid a blister as the match burned down perilously close to her fingers.

The Leader took a heavy drag on her cigarette and held it a second. As she exhaled she waved at a poster for Kissing Jessica Stein. "What does that say? 'Sometimes when you're in love you can't see straight?' Humph." Great quantities of smoke poured out of The Leader's nose as she spoke. She took another heavy drag and adjusted her shoulderstrap.

The Leader's Bitch said, "kinda like you, huh? It's kind of like you!" She shoved The Leader playfully and giggled harshly.

"Shit," said The Leader. "It's not even funny. Scott is so into that." She rolled her eyes a little and put an exasperated frown on for show. She shifted her weight rolling her hip around and pushing it out a bit while taking another heavy drag on her Bel Aire. She inspected her nails and sighed heavily acknowledging an imperceptible flaw, and let her head fall back far enough to look up at the stars. I watched her adjust her bra strap a little and tug ceaselessly on her capris in an effort to minimize her cameltoe.

Soon, she started singing. "Bwanah Bwanah. Bwanah Bwanah Bwanah Bwah. Bwah Bwah Bwanah. Bwanah Bwanah Bwanah Bwah."

The Leader's Bitch said, "Hey isn't that the Sanford and Son theme?"

"Uh-Huh. Bwanah Bwanah. Bwanah Bwanah Bwanah Bwah."

The Leader's Bitch joined in. They did a little Sanford and Son dance as they crushed their butts under the toes of their hip boots. Suddenly they became aware of the small but growing audience gathering to hear them squawk like a wa-wa peddal.

They secured their little purses on their shoulders and shuffled gracelessly into the cinema.

A woman standing nearby said, "Wow." I knew just what she meant.

Posted at 12:26 a.m.

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