All’s Well That Ends
My German friend, Klaus, was in town yesterday and wanted to go somewhere for lunch where he could do the “Cali healthy eating thing.” We ended up at Urth Café, standing in line behind the stock image of an LA girl: bleached blonde hair, tank top+jeans, and script in one hand, Blackberry in the other.
She was of indiscernible age; par the course of living in southern California, you can never tell if girls here are really young or just done up to look young.
I didn’t give her a second thought because I was too distracted by my buyer’s remorse: $10 for half of a tuna sandwich. My father would kill me. But as we were eating, a group of preteen girls (real, actual young girls) crowded around her, gushing.
As we were leaving, I asked the girls who the celebrity was, only to find out that she plays a character on the Jonas Brothers TV show. ”Don’t you know who the Jonas Brothers are?” the mother (older, trying to look younger) asked me. Like I don’t know who the Jonas Brothers are.
