While shopping for under eye concealer at a fancy make up place in Hollywood I walked up to the fancy make up counter and addressed the brunette anorexic 12 year old holding on for dear life to her cash register.

Me: “Hi. I’m looking for some concealer.”

Anorexic Girl: “Really? Is this for you?”

Me: “Yes. It’s for me.”

Anorexic: “Oh. Well, you’re in the wrong section.”

Me: “I am? Oh……okay, where do I need to go?”

Anorexic: “To the Mature Lady’s Department.”

…..and she turned and smirked.

I then left the store, walked across the mall to the closest McDonalds, got a Big Mac and small fries and came back to her counter where she was patting her left hollowed cheek with bronzer.

I cleared my throat to get her attention.

She hobbled over to me. Her knees weak from hunger, I assumed.

“Hi. I couldn’t find the Mature Lady’s Department, so I wonder if you could just help me here.”

I then took the Big Mac out of the bag, and began sliding it down my throat like a rattlesnake devouring a church mouse.

She stared at me. Hard. With hate and envy.

Me: “Oh. I’m sorry. Bite?”