All-For-Art

Walking down the sunny city street, Janet was the belle of her own little ball. She wore only the best sunhat and sunflower dress, which fluttered as she walked along the sidewalk in her six-inch Gucci Heels. Janet was born with a silver spoon in her mouth and wasn’t the kind of woman to let this fact go unnoticed. With her matching Gucci handbag, which went with her shoes and dress, she held her overpriced iPhone with her other hand, the light of the screen reflecting off her white-rim sunglasses. “Like, OMG, Courtney, I can’t believe Starbucks was out of my favorite drink! How can they run out of a Grande, Iced, Sugar-Free, Vanilla Latte With Soy Milk? America is SO becoming a third-world country!” Janet texted her absolute bestie, Courtney, on her phone. “OMG, you poor thing! What do we even pay these people for, girl?” Courtney replied back. “Like, for real!” Janet texted back with a look of condescending annoyance plastered all over her face. Yet Janet’s attention was