I hate teenage girls.

They fall into two categories:
1) Generally Nice, possibly slightly nerdy (hints of acne and eyewear), Always tolerable, not afraid to talk to adults, good at math and not because they cheat

2) Weird valley girl accent, general bitchiness, won't look other women in the eye, skinny, H&M clothing, prefer speaking to adult males only, cheat on every test because they think they fucking deserve an A, usually white (yeah I said it!), dirty mouths (and not 'fuck' or 'shit', I'm taking about the degrading stuff like 'slut' and 'bitch.')

I cannot do an impression of category two because my vocals chords begin seizing and I feel my throat closing up. But it sounds slightly like a sea lion, if you have ever heard one.

I like the category one people. Veronica Mars would fit into that category, so that's the one I'm rooting for.

Category 2 involves a world which I know nothing about. I simply know it exists. I know it exists and I want to stop it, yet I don't want to know it, so therefore will never stop it. Quite the predicament (I can't stop with the John Travolta).

But category 2 girls also existed back when I was in high school - isn't that scary? They either replicate like amoebas (highly likely) or simply never finished high school and got *alot* of 'work' done in their 20's (slightly unlikely).

I have one question for the category 2 parents: how do you stop yourself from walking into a bus every morning? How did you let them become that way? Did you teach them the Valley Girl accent at an infant age or did you wait until pre-school? Because it isn't cool. It makes your daughter look weird. I want to actually 'correct' their speech, and say things such as "it's pronounced whatever. Not what-eh-va" or "replying with thank you is a little more polite than whispering move bitch or die."

But I don't say anything. Ever. Keeping quiet is easier - you know why? Because these girls are intimidating. You know you would lose more than your job if you actually ever insulted them. So for now I sit quietly. And cherish those moments when Category 1 girls wave at me on the subway.