.................I am NOT Paris Hilton......................

Nor do I aspire to be. Ms. Hilton and I only have one thing in common, our gender. Other than that, she is everything that I am not. She is an artificially tanned bag of bones that is so conceited and narcissistic. Unlike me, she wears many hats, she is an actress, a reality TV whore, jewelry designer, a published author, an amateur pornstar, an aspiring singer and an heiress. And she is in no ashamed about showing off her wealth with the many designer barely there outfits that she wears. My wardrobe consists of Old Navy t-shirts and jeans, I love me some bootcut jeans.

Even though I am not Ms. Hilton (thank God) I was treated as if I were this morning. As I was waiting at the bus station, an elderly man asked me for a quarter to buy a cup of coffee. I shook my head and said, "No, I don't have any change," which I didn't. All I had were dollar bills that I needed for bus fare and train tokens. The elderly man rudely replied "I meant a quarter of million dollars!" He quickly (I still don't know how he got away so fast) walked away while I sat on the bench trying to understand what just happened. I was a victim of a "dis and run".

Perhaps the old man was so senile that he actually thought I was Ms. Hilton. Yeah, because we all know how she is a curvaceous Cambodian girl who is rarely seen without her Red Sox cap and Steve Maddie boots that were purchased from eBay. I guess he must have been blinded by my non-existent diamonds given to me by Neil Lane to realize that I was not the heiress of a famous hotelier. Or, maybe the old man is a card carrying member of the "Bitter Old Men Club"

Why should I respect my elders, if they do not respect me?