The Alpha Skank is a Dangerous Beast

I saw three young girls walking through my neighborhood while I was driving home. The first one was wearing shiny tight red vinyl pants that covered all the way from her ankles up to her anorexic hips where the material puckered a bit with no flesh to which it could adhere. She had on a short sleeved grungy white t-shirt covered in part by long stringy blonde hair, and was trailing a cigarette from a hand held low at her side (if I was her, I would worry about melting the pants). She was obviously the Alpha-skank. The second girl in line was wearing (or not wearing) very short cut jeans. She had a long sleeved black lace top that, when I looked in the rearview mirror after passing, I could see was totally backless apart from one cloth tie hanging loosely from one side to the other – a distance no more than a foot and a half on her frame. She strutted in line with the others, even managing to glare at me in perfect synch when I dared glance out my window as I passed them on the street. She’d have her own skank-posse soon enough. If I were Alpha-skank, I’d worry about walking on the road-side edge of busy streets. One push and her shiny red vinyl ass is converted into a trendy red vinyl car bra. The third girl was wearing a conservative pair of jean shorts and a loose fitting shirt that didn’t announce the exact stage of her teenage development. I like to think of her as Jane Goodall doing a high school sociology project, having just recently been accepted by a pride of wild skanks.