AHHHRRH! Omigod! Ruuuu-fus. I can’t see! I can’t see! Rufus!”
The timbre implied some decades of bourbon and unfiltered cigarettes, yet the accent, slack-jawed and non-rhotic, recalled Paramus Park Mall. The unholy racket was coming from a figure about four-foot-nine, pressed up against the velvet rope, despite repeated admonitions from large security men. She wore a teal velour hoodie up top and athletic shorts below, with bright sneakers and striped tube socks. Actual tube socks! There was a large hair clip growing out of the side of her head.
Crap. Yes, it’s true, that was totally us. We’re so embarrassed. But like, you know how it is when you spend the weekend drinking Red Bull mixed with Pixy Sticks and watching the last season of Gossip Girl over and over in preparation for the SEASON TWO OPENER WHICH IS, OH MY GOD, MONDAY. Anyway, we tried to lie and save face by telling Liu we were teenage girls from Florida, but everyone at the office recognized the tube socks immediately. So busted.