For anyone who doubts that life is indeed absolutely and insanely unfair, I offer conclusive proof in the form of one Mindy Monroe. I first met Mindy in my freshman chem class at OSU, where she sat next to me and constantly pestered me for my notes on all of the texts she was too lazy to read. That, of course, was when she actually bothered to show up at all. See, Mindy had that unusual talent for putting in only the absolute minimum amount of effort to scrape by. That said, I suppose she enjoyed her college years more than me, as the complete avoidance of anything remotely resembling study certainly left a lot of surplus time for partying (and Mindy had quite a reputation for putting in the extra effort where that was concerned). Every time she interupted my nightly study ritual at the library to beg for answers or, more often, to bum money for alcohol and cigarettes, I would smugly think to myself that in the end, she would get what was coming to her... and boy, did she.

Although I was surprised to actually see her on the stage on graduation day, I was overjoyed that that would be the very last time I'd ever see her. I lived in blissful ignorance of her whereabouts until today, when she ruined a perfectly good break at the coffee shop. I was outside enjoying the nice weather and lack of customers, when I saw a strangely familiar woman approaching, made-up to high heaven and laden with a heavy payload of designer merchandise in trendy boutique bags. As she approached, my heart filled with a feeling of unspeakable dread and it dawned on me that it was in fact Mindy the Moocher, come halfway across the continent to make my life miserable yet again. My first impulse was to run, but I was trapped by an unruly tangle of patio chairs. I tried my best to look insignificant and anonymous in my peasant clothes, hoping that she would simply brush past in her self-important rush to wherever she was heading. It almost worked, except for the fact that her bags happened to snag one of the chairs as she passed, causing her to slow briefly and glance in my direction. As she slowly pulled down her sunglasses, she looked straight at me and uttered the words I had been dreading... "Addie, is that you?"

Well, that was that -- it was obviously me, looking just as plain, broke and hopeless as I did back in school. Not that I had a chance to say anything, as she immediately launched into a sweeping epic of how she came out here penniless and clueless and ended up with a wonderful high-paying marketing job for some world-class software firm down in the Valley, with all sorts of opportunities for advancement, travel and whatnot. And she was engaged to some big movie producer from LA who jetted up here every weekend to see her and lavish her with expensive gifts and opulent parties at his modest mansion (she explained how the one down there was really much better, but she was content with the smaller confines here). Then, she off-handedly mentioned that they were having a quiet little get together with a few hundred of their closest friends around their olympic-size swimming pool this weekend and that I should drop by if I had the time. Before I could answer, she remarked that she had to make a very critical appointment downtown, excused herself and was gone as fast as she had come... but not before she begged me for a small loan for cab fare, of course (the more things change...).

Just in time, too, as a crowd of customers started congregating in the shop not long after that, and I had to quickly run in and put on my best consumer-friendly smile. I'm not sure if Mindy realized that I was on the job when she saw me (I have great faith in her inability to put two and two together -- apparently, an essential quality for up-and-coming marketing mavens). I hope she just thought I was broke and eating a lousy meal at a tiny coffee shop and not broke and eating a lousy meal at a tiny coffee shop where I was responsible for making the lousy meals. Either way, it was terribly embarrassing.

Well, someone is certainly bitter today. I say we grab our swim suits and head to her pool party! (I totally think I followed the wrong girl home that night.)

See? More injustice! Why can't Mindy be the one sharing a cramped apartment with an unruly monster? Someone up there doesn't like me.