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Exhausted introspection gave up before it told me why I wanted it. Indians, Negroes, and those of a whiter type were all here. It’s only a shame the one I was seeking wasn’t... it could have been. I heard the voice; its disgustingly soothing whine. I knew that voice well. I scanned the room over and over until it became one circular blur of colors. A tired voice called out "forty-five through fifty..." It was time to leave. On the way through the corridor, like a red cloud it crashed down on me– the Seven mark. I couldn’t fight the pounding any longer; against my own will I threw down my head and rammed it directly into a wall, at least it felt as much. By the time I broke out of my tizzy it was gone. I had to kill it. I sat down; I had lost my breath and maybe if it saw me sitting it would come back. Enough about my breath. I had to kiss it, no idiot, kill it...so round, so beautiful...you moron. I felt it coming, its presence is unmistakable. What is it!? Well, it wasn’t so much the words, but the tone which felt like a syringe was being rammed into my ear, "ummmm... I think you’re in the wrong seat." I looked up into the eyes, I knew I found it:.

A J.A.P.*– -the vainest one.




* J.A.P. stands for "Jewish American Princess" or as dictionary.com puts it: "A Jewish-American girl or woman regarded as being pampered or overindulged. " This is in no way a reference to the Japenese people.