“Dude, what the fuck is a Saskia de Brauw?” Freja asked staring at her ipod touch.
“A super good coffee maker,” Arizona said as she messaged Freja’s back.
“Karl replaced me with a coffee maker?”
“Wait, I was saying coffee maker- the machine, not coffee maker- the hipster.”
“It doesn’t fucking matter, ‘Zona the point is, Karl replaced me.”
“Oh no,” Arizona gasped, “You have a really bad knot on your shoulder,” she said continuing her massage.
“Don’t you get how important this is? I was dumped,” Freja growled, wanting to throw her ipod touch, but she hadn’t downloaded all the naked ‘zona pics off it yet so she handled it with care. “This is like if Jil Sander replaced you,” Freja said, to get Arizona to understand.
“Didn’t they already?” Arizona asked.
“Ugh. I’m googling this coffee maker, Saskia DeBrauw,” Freja said, prancing her delicate fingers across the ipod touch.
The picture slowly came up.
“It’s a fucking dude!” Freja exclaimed.
“Who would trade a cutting edge lesbian for a dude?” Arizona asked, “Other than, like, Anne Heche, but look how that turned out for her.”
“Wait. No. They might have just mislabeled an picture of young Jamie Lee Curtis.”
“Like Terror Train era Jamie Lee Curtis?”
“Seriously, Terror Train is what you associate young Jamie Lee Curtis with? Terror Train?” Freja asked. Outraged.
“Frej, you need to calm down, I’m gonna go make you a cup of-” shit. Arizona stopped. She couldn’t say coffee, Freja was just replaced by a coffee maker that looked like Terror Train Era Jamie Lee Curtis, “-a warm cup of… apple… sauce?” Arizona said, struggling to finish her sentence.
“Aw, you always know how to make me feel better,” Freja said, pulling Arizona’s hand over, then kissing it.
They dined on cups of warm apple sauce and Freja thought, I might not have Chanel, but at least I have my desert queen.
***NOTE THIS IS A WORK OF FICTION***