rekkidblogga

Solitary refinement

Other kids in high school hang out at the mall. I couldn't be bothered with anything as normal as that during my teen years. Being misunderstood was much more inviting.

And so while the other girls in my homeroom spent their Mondays comparing how, like, Friday night's haul at The Limited was, you know, totally more rad than, like, Saturday's grab at Merry Go Round and stuff, I slithered into school prepared to start another long, dull week of sunny days spent indoors squinting at blackboards I was starting to have trouble seeing (I didn't know that I needed glasses) and dreading whatever horrors Algebra II was just waiting to spring on me.

There were a couple of reasons I never participated in these Monday morning social bees. One, I worked at the mall and hated the place so I never spent any more time there than was necessary. Two, the idea of hanging out with anyone from my high school outside of class just made me laugh because it was so ludicrous. I didn't like those kids and they didn't like me, either. The only friend I needed back then was my best pal at work, Brandon, who was 19, rode a red Yamaha racing motorcycle way too fast, hung out in late-night clubs, did cooler things than anyone at my high school had ever done or would ever do and went to Georgia State University downtown. That's where I was going to college, too. Because he went there. I loved Brandon. He was The All, my first real older guy crush.

Brandon convinced me that there was nothing really weird about staying in my room, listening to records, something I've always enjoyed. In fact, it was a cool thing to do. Cooler than being like the kids who hung around down the mall at Spencer's, trying to act like they were soooooo bad. No one had ever told me that before. All I heard at school was that kids who weren't seen at the mall, hanging out and spending allowance money on clothes and shoes and lame cassettes by Technotronic and Maxi Priest, were losers -- as were those of us who worked at the mall for minimum wage in order to sell these airheads their coveted clothes, shoes and lame cassettes.

Listening to Brandon talk about what it was like at GSU, I realized that high school was a minor, inconvenient blip on life's big radar. College was where you made your friends, forged your identity, pursued your passions, explored cool stuff, had your fun, where you told people to step off, as Brandon put it. This was where I wanted to be -- no, needed to be.

This afternoon it hit me that I've been out of high school for 15 years now. And I'm glad. There won't be any reunions in my future. Those days are better left in the past and I never wanted to be part of them back then anyway. Besides, when's the last time you heard a Maxi Priest song? And Merry Go Round has been closed for a long, long time.

posted by rekkidbraka @ 7:07 PM