For a few moments last week, I felt as sophisticated as my favorite six year old. As a 22-year-old not a girl, not yet a woman, I’ve sometimes felt inadequate when I see photos of Suri Cruise with her perfect hair and wardrobe.
But not anymore. Mini Katie Holmes and I have eaten the same ice cream, and that makes us one and the same.
In case you’ve just awoken from a coma, you will know that Suri’s parents have just divorced, and last week on Tom Cruise’s birthday, Suri and her mother went to eat ice cream instead of attending Tom’s Scientology party at the roller rink. They went to my favorite ice cream spot in the city: Sundaes and Cones. I go at least once a week, and I was ashamed of myself for not sensing that I needed to have my sesame ice cream fix last Tuesday.
So, as someone with a bachelor of science in Journalism, I had to put my reporting skills to use. I took the 30-minute trip on the Staten Island Ferry to Manhattan (I’m basically like Joey Potter rowing to Dawson’s house), and I went to Sundaes and Cones.
Walking in felt different than the other times I had been to this ice cream parlor. It felt more high-class than before, and there was a larger than normal crowd. I pushed passed the people slurping down their cones so I could do my journalistic duty.
I walked up to the counter and asked the scooper, “What did Suri Cruise have?”
“I wasn’t working that night, but they told me it was cherry vanilla,” she said.
“Give me a scoop of cherry vanilla then,” I said. I didn’t say please because Suri probably didn’t either.
Even though I don’t even like cherries, the ice cream tasted amazing, mainly because everything at Sundaes and Cones is amazing and the fact that for a moment I felt like I had the same taste as Suri. I wanted to start demanding designer handbags and heels. I wanted to ask someone to carry me everywhere. I wanted to call up my dad and ask him why he has two front teeth instead of one center tooth.
However, the sophistication was fleeting. It was over faster than Katie and Tom’s divorce proceedings. As I walked out of Sundaes and Cones, I didn’t have shiny Suri hair or a fabulous fur coat. But I still have a little bit of confidence, because even though I will never be Suri, I know that I’ll never have to be jealous of my dad because he got to hookup with David Beckham (rumors, I’m sure…) and I didn’t.
(Photo: He Calls Me Pretty Bird)