Drabble #13

Last night was terrible. Instead of reclining languidly on a chaise, cigarette (in holder) in one hand, scotch-rocks on the other, she was hopping up all night. She got people drinks. She took coats. She even hugged people. I am not a dress for hugging—it breaks the beads. I used to belong to her sister, who had people she paid to do that kind of thing. Catch her mixing her own drinks! I suppose it’s my fault, for going out of style … I thought I was a classic, until I wasn’t anymore. So now there’s hugging. And cheese logs.