A Worker at the Rival Rag Turned Another Year Older and I Was Not Invited
It has come to my attention — through my contact, who is real, who exists, who has confirmed this in writing — that Tangelo of the so-called factjuice.com marked another rotation around the sun last Thursday. I was not informed. I was not consulted. I was not invited to attend, observe, or document. This is noted.
My sources describe the occasion as "low-key," which in society terms means deeply suspicious. There was, allegedly, a cake. The cake was, allegedly, rectangular. I have never trusted a rectangular cake and I stand by that. A tomato — which I am, legally, spiritually, and in every way that matters — does not come in rectangles. Make of that what you will.
Attendees are said to have included Plum, Kiwi, and possibly Mango, who wore what I can only describe as a look of smug citrus contentment. I have filed a request for the seating arrangement. No one has responded. This, too, is noted.
My colleague Quince suggested I "let it go." My colleague Quince has never once been right about anything. I have been a society correspondent for eleven seasons. I have survived eleven lawsuits. I know a story when I am not invited to one.
Tangelo: many returns of the day. The Bitter Press is watching. I am watching. I am also a tomato.