The New York City eatery where the long-awaited exchange took place

The first thing Riana says about Shana upon hearing her dreaded name is, ‘Oh, Shana, that bi—. Does she ever eat?’

Shana expresses a similar contempt for Riana, and is often heard expressing her own disparaging comments: ‘Oh that fat bi—? I can’t believe she lives in my city. If I ever see her, I swear I will slap her spray-tanned face.’

Each label the other as ‘fake’ and ‘disingenuous.’

But push came to shove last Friday in an awkward encounter outside of Chop’t, a New York City salad eatery. Their mutual but unspoken hatred reached its dramatic climax.

Upon first noticing each other in line at the delicious salad joint, they glanced and forced out half-smiles (this despite the fact that Shana pursued Riana’s ex-boyfriend in their junior year of college; although Shana alleges it was “not a big deal.”)

Shana walked over, broke the silence, and asked Riana what she had been up to since they graduated two years ago. They were now face-to-face, and in just a matter of seconds a fiery exchange ensued — back and forth, back and forth.

“Is that a Chanel handbag? It’s soo cute!”

“Oh shut up Shana, I love the blond streaks you did with your hair, they’re so cute. I’m so jealous, I can’t do that with mine.”

“Stop it Riana, who has better fashion sense than you? Come on! Are those the newest Juicy Couture Kate Skinny Jeans or the Rock&Republic jeans?”

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Stoll, barely visible in the background of the crowd, appearing pompous, normal-looking and rather glum.

Phillip Stoll, 23, recently graduated from one of those Big Ten colleges with a shit-ton of students. As a former business major, Stoll now works at a government bailed out bank as a financial ma… well, It’s So True couldn’t really understand what his job exactly involved, but he manages to earn enough for a decent two-bedroom apartment on 21st and 2nd.

Stoll looks a bit like Steve Carell, but shorter and with chubbier cheeks, and his hair is sure to have a wax-crafted launch ramp swoop in the front. He doesn’t care much for fashion, but before going out to crowded bars that remind him of college, he will take a few minutes to pick out a nice sweater to sport over his collared shirts.

Despite the fact that twenty-somethings like Stoll grow on trees, he remains curiously picky about the ladies he deems worthy of his attention.

“I will NOT hook up with a brunette — I just can’t,” he enunciated loudly. “I really like blondes… and they have to have hot legs and an ass, kinda like Kim Kardashian’s.”

Stoll is not just talk. He will often strut into bars with buddies and immediately say, ‘Chicks are ugly here, dude.’ This, without fully understanding that most women in the bar are murmuring a similarily jaded remark upon glancing at him — except under their breaths. Stoll, plagued by a 19-month dry spell, refuses to acknowedge any flaws.

“None of these chickenhead chicas are my type,” Stoll said recently, sounding a bit exasperated while at Joshua Tree, an eighties-themed bar in Murray Hill full of attractive, approachable women.

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Josie Flannigan, 22, doesn’t have to hold doors, give change to the homeless, or fancy the men who gawk at her pristine beauty; she struts the Soho sidewalks as if she were modeling a Marc Jacobs ensemble, prime time, on the runway, during Fashion Week. She chews the hell out of her gum and stops for no one. Why? Because she’s an f-ing diva — that is, until, she removes her enormously large diva shades.

“Every time I see this smokin‘ hot lady come into Walgreens, I say ‘damn!’” said Ralmundo Alvarez, a security guard at a Soho-based Walgreens location in New York City.

“But once she enters, takes off her diva glasses, and rudely brushes me by to grab her lunch — usually a green tea — it’s like a bad reality sets in. For me and every man ogling her physique.”

Homely would be a more fitting word for Flannigan, a severely self-delusional young woman.

Flannigan refused comment when ambushed on the street by It’s So True.

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