I'm so happy for our little part of town, the new refurbished theater is doing well, a wine bar has gone in and our newly favorite noodle shop is both tasty and inexpensive.
It's my. part. of. town. if I haven't mentioned that yet.
I was enjoying my glass of wine and Pho [noodles] when a group of people arrived at the front door and they looked familiar. A few minutes later they pushed a zillion tables together and in piles the cheerleaders. The ones I went to high school with, the ones that were a year or two ahead of me, the ones in school that drove up in new cars and had all the fancy clothes. They drove across town, to MY street. The one I have lived off of, in three different apartments just-this-side-of-sketchy, over the past 20 years.
grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr. MY. STREET.
They don't know me [nor recognized me], and to be honest I don't know them. I'm sure they're lovely people in their Range Rovers, and skinny jeans, I'm sure the shop owners don't care where they live as long as they spend money. I should be glad too if I could get past it all. But there it is. It's becoming gentrified, because these women would have turned their noses up at this street just a year ago but now it's cool to go slummin' with the rest of the art kids.
They followed us across the street to the movie as well. Two whole rows of people. More money for the million dollar restoration I tell myself. I don't have a choice, I have to let them in. But I just want you to know....
it's still my street.
1 comment:
There is something annoying when the "cool" people suddenly discover what you already know to be cool and then sort of move in on it as if it's their discovery. It just maks them look even more shallow.
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