Cap Loewe Doppelganger

Tracey had a big crush on our AP English teacher...by big, I mean BIG--she gives new meaning to school girl crush. No, it wasn't like that creepy movie with Jeremy Irons and Alicia Silverstone--but it had its Lolita-esque moments. In turn, he was the paragon of adult good behavior; we all knew her love wasn't unrequited--he just wasn't in a position to do anything about it. Ah...Mr. Cap Loewe.

Yesterday, my Emit Mag reporter gal pal and tea girl extraordinaire invited me to her gum-maker bf's best friend's book reading. This best friend/writer guy was an iteration of Cap right down to his jacket, pointy ET fingers, and minor stoop (tall guys NEVER stand upright, why is that?). I got chills and quickly pointed this out to Lauren, my high school friend and knower of the Cap-Tracey effect. I'm eager to introduce Trace to her future husband--as per my calculations anyway.

Unfortunately, there were a bevy of scantily clad white girls fluttering around him like bees buzzing on a flower pre-pollination. If he met Trace, he'd love her. I know it. She's kooky, cute, and just his type. Of course, I don't know him at all--but I feel it in my bones.

He was reading from his book "Diamonds: The Heartless Stone". In the wake of a broken engagement he embarked on a voyage to destroy DeBeers--the propogaters: the devil who sells dreams--via multiple trips to the Central African Republic he learned of the heinous conditions under which diamond mines are run as well as the meager money handed down to the miners themselves.

My only question to him was, "Does this mean you'll never buy another diamond?" His obvious answer was, "Never." Apparently diamonds aren't forever. I couldn't help feeling this was more hurt over what ended than anything else, but I hasten not to make this judgement since I don't know him AT ALL. That's when I knew--he was PURR-fect for Trace. She doesn't believe in precious stones either, of course her reasons have little to do with the the miners and everything to do with the value assigned to rocks. Strange given the value she assigns to Prada, but what's life without contradictions?

I'm sorry to say I, like the masses, buy into that marketing campaign from the 1930s. Unlike all the girls shouting "Diamonds are a girl's best friend" I'll take my Luckey over a diamond any day. But don't go down on one knee in front of me sans 3-carat rock and a firm forever, foreva-eva.