SNOTSDALE SCOBS



Now there are lots of women in Scottsdale who are not snobs. But somehow Snotsdale, as some of those who don't denizen here call it, has earned that honor. Never have I heard Mesa, Chandler, Avondale, Peoria, Gilbert, Fountain Hills, etc. been referred to in that vein. Or should it be vain.

More than the elevated nose, some Scottsdale women just have that look past. Not look as in the past, though we have our share of those, too, but the look that you are not there. You're invisible. Or so repugnant that to have even a glance in your direction would validate you. And they wouldn't want that.

It's a little like seeing a person have food on their face. You can't bring yourself to look at them, at least that part where the linguine lingered. Looking at one beneath them might remind them that there people in their immediate world that they would rather not acknowledge, certainly never associate with. Even in a casual setting.

So if they deny your existence by acting as if you're not there, then they have in effect eradicated you from the face of their world. Wow! Such power! Bill Bryson used to do that as a kid in The Life and Times of the Thunderbolt Kid. But, of course, he was young and childish. Or is it childlike. Whatever, it seems that that word could also apply to the Snobs.

If I sound bitter, I'm not. I'm disappointed that I live in a community so known. But if they want to look past me, I have no problem with that. As long as they really don't eradicate me.