Hey, You!

You were the girl stepping out of that phat ride in the 15-minute parking zone. I saw your platform heel and gold toe ring feel their way toward the curb. That was the day you made your big entrance on campus, like a debutante from Norwalk. I was standing there with my saxophone case and band folder. I saw your ankle suddenly bend over onto itself, watching as your grinding curves came to a spastic halt and fizzled onto the sidewalk like a deflated Bratz doll. For a moment, you held the awkward pose of a human being. Welcome to the club, yo!

Send anonymous thanks, confessions or accusations—changing or deleting the names of the guilty and innocent—to "Hey, You!" c/o OC Weekly, 1666 N. Main St., Ste. 500, Santa Ana, CA 92701-7417, or e-mail us at letters@ocweekly.com.

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