You know how every friend group secretly wonders which of the friends is the prettiest. You know. They ponder, What do guys think. What do other women think. What are our parents’ friends on Facebook really thinking behind the ‘you’re so pretty’ comment. Do they mean it. If only we could have a random stranger tell us the straight-up truth in a setting such as a bar.
Well luckily for my friend group, but mainly for me, we don’t have to worry any longer. The jury is in. They’re done with recess. The dancing lobsters are standing still. Everyone has come to their decision. The jury is a male wearing a black blazer with a Batman bowtie in Adair’s in Deep Ellum and his mind is made up.
I am the prettiest.
Surprisingly, this did not go over well with my two other friends who got a decent second in prettiest and a sad, sad third. Wow. That’s too bad. They are mad. The laughing as turned into frowning. They are mad we ever asked this stranger to rank us. They are mad they aren’t prettier. What were the expecting, though?
Friday night was the first night
in my life since high school I had worn lipstick and it obviously showed. My cheeks were blushed and my lips were a matte orangish/brownish that screamed HELLO AUTUMN. Batman Bowtie could clearly sense something different about me. He knew there was someone special behind The Girl With The Brown Lips. He wanted to show me how incredible I was and there’s only one way for a man to do this: knock down other women in the process, which I respect. He ranked me first in the game, Who Is The Prettiest, Rank Us Now. Can you really, in the root of it all, blame him?