There once was a woman whose name was Pretension,
of famous names and liaisons she’d frequently mention.
Thought herself rather worldly; spun tales to deceive,
while you, a mere peon, she’d have you believe.
A type rather ubiquitous in our Montclair;
as common as pollen in the April air.
One Ladies Night Out the pleasure ‘twas mine,
with much thanks to Bacchus for copious wine.
Throughout our dinner Pretension’s heart did so swell,
as she expounded the topics that she knew so well.
She rattled statistics and offered some quotes,
she spoke about politics and which way she may vote.
But the topic soon turned to a new restaurant,
while still unacquainted with the popular haunt,
Pretension had no input or story to tell,
no critique on cuisine, or the fine oaken smell.
But on went the banter that rose to expand
a vivid description last Friday’s big band.
Enthused by reviews a young lady did shout:
“I’m curious now, I must check this place out.”
Upon these words, Pretension thought to herself,
“What could they know, I’ll have to see for myself?”
Pretension put on countenance of great consternation,
turned to the young lady and laid explanation.
“Young one,” she began, then paused to build clout,
“There are some things in this world I just don’t wonder about.”
Why must she be so patronizingly lofty?
Supercilious, arrogant, pompous, and haughty?
The tale I have told was not meant to be cruel,
but to illustrate a lesson often learned in high school:
that snide comments made to continually gibe,
most often disguise something shameful to hide.
For friendship is forged through kind word and deed;
and admiration is lost where malevolence breeds.
Leave a comment