The Hair Flip

So I went to my homecoming, and shut up. I know that I said that I wasn't going to go because of the anxiety that I was having about it, but I have to say, it was a lot of fun and I am very glad that I went. For one, I thought that I would be the only single, fat person there. Not the case. And no one cared! Everyone was just happy to see everyone, and there was a good time had by all.
However, I am sad to report that some things about the people that I went to school with have not changed. Some of my female peers are still as terminally rude as they were ten years ago.
Once upon a time, about 11 years ago, I had a communications class with this girl named Ashley. I didn't know Ashley well, but I could tell by her attitude that she was one of those petite girls with long, flat-ironed hair that liked to flirt and felt like the world should revolve around her. During a study session, she referred to a male friend of mine that had just crossed Alpha Phi Alpha as fat multiple times. Number one: the boy was not fat. Number two: who uses the word fat so openly around a fat person? I tell you who: Ashley. Ashley the Rude.
Anywho, the first night of homecoming I found myself at a club for an alumni dance party. I was the first one there because I am old and punctual, and if my friend Ethan would not have agreed to meet me there, I would have gone home at 9:30pm. I mean, I really felt like a fish out of water. All I kept thinking was that the music was hella loud and that the young girls that were there needed to go home and change into something more appropriate.
Ethan got there as soon as I had decided to leave, and we stood at one of those tall tables and talked. In mid-sentence, I hear someone yell, "Ethan!" I turned around and who was it but Ashley the Rude. She is still just as cute as she always has been and had on this dope black sweatsuit. Her hair, as usual, was heat damaged to the side.
"Hi Ashley," I said, as she ignored me, stepped in front of me, and gave Ethan the warmest welcome I have ever seen in my life. I half expected him to pick her up, kiss her, and spin in a circle. They caught up briefly, and as Ashley motioned to leave, I said, "Bye Ashley." Homegirl didn't turn around, she simply flipped her hair in my face and walked away to dance with her other rude ass friends. She left me there with a tight face, blinking profusely, in a state of disbelief.
That night, I didn't really dance. I had a good time watching the youngins twerk and hearing my favorite songs on good speakers. My feet began to hurt, so I stood barefoot, rocking side to side to Cardi B, eating ice out of my cup. But on the way back to the hotel in my Uber, I realized that there is some comfort in things not changing for better or worse. Ashley the Rude is still rude. I still hate standing at the club. My classmates still look good. New Orleans is still fun. It's nice to know that as the world kicks your butt, there is still a mislead girl in a tracksuit that will flip her hair in your face for old times sake. This, my friends, is the definition of comforting.

NY: Day 1

I am so happy to be writing you today, for on the plane to NY, I thought I was going to die! I could literally feel every gust of air that brushed against the plane. The lights were blinking on and off, and at one point, the plane felt like it had stopped midair! I would have kissed the ground when we landed...if it wasn't gross!
Upon arrival at Laguardia, I stood in line to use the two stall bathroom. Apparently, one woman had to go so bad that she felt it appropriate to unzip her paints in the line. Just my luck, I get to use the bathroom after The Incredible Shedding Woman. After thoroughly wiping the toilet, I could not help but to wonder if she had bothered to leave one pubic hair on her vag.
While trying to trek it to the hotel shuttle, some airport employee, whose job it is to direct people to the shuttles, stops me to say, "I'm not tryin' to be funny, but I don't think you should lose a damn ounce!" This guy is typical of men who find me attractive: African, short, and underweight. Eye roll. Then he goes on to quote his favorite comedian's line about "skinny bitches."
My ride on the shuttle from the airport was smooth until a fellow passenger and the driver got into a shouting match. Something about being afraid of getting charged twice.
While they yelled at each other, I found myself taken aback by the flashing lights of the city. How could something be so beautiful, while looking like it needed a thorough rinse? There was so much trash! And not litter, I mean huge bags!
Later that day, my homegirl invites me to go eat at her house. The catch: I have to take the subway. YUCK! The people who didn't look sick looked mean! With every cough and grunt, I could feel myself getting a temperature. The NY train system, although efficient, makes Marta, the Atlanta transit system, look like limo service.
On my way to the train, a street man told me I needed to lose weight...very loudly. He was selling belts out of a tattered luggage. I dodged into a Subway restaurant to avoid him and buy a tea, just to exit and run right into him face-to-face, yelling about how cute I was, but needed to "come down." He was willing to work out with me, he yelled in so many words. I ignored him, taking a sip of my tea, only to find that it was diet. Irony.
Today, I shall wonder the city. I shall let you know how that goes; what excitement I run into.