This afternoon, a Friday afternoon, I had the unfortunate pleasure of having to run some errands in the flats. As I drove down Rt. 19, I was struck with a horrible revelation. Friday afternoon. School had started. Crap. That meant Friday night football games and myriad band geeks, majorettes, and flag girls wandering down the road from the high school to kill time until they had to get into uniform.
When I pulled into the flats it didn’t get much better. The Starbucks, which was always a popular (and by popular I mean annoyingly overcrowded) hangout after school, was more swamped than usual and girls in too-short Soffe shorts and boys in black and gold shirts flocked toward the door.
While checking out after errand stop 2 of 5, a woman at the counter blurted out, “Oh oh! Someone’s got homecoming dresses!” And sure enough, with her mom and who I could only hope (and pity) was her boyfriend, was a girl with not 1, not 2, but 3 homecoming dresses. I can only assume she was matching them for corsages at the florist next door.
I was about to be both blown away and disgusted by this. Then I learned that homecoming is September 7 this year. Actually…still blown away and disgusted. What the hell do you need 3 dresses for? Are you planning a costume change? 1 dress for dinner, 1 for pictures, 1 for the dance? This is not my Supersweet Sixteen.
What little bit of wisdom did I learn from this trip to the Wild Wild Wex? I learned that, despite the fact that I’m mid-melt down mode from the knowledge that I’ll soon be entering the real world, I would much prefer the real world, no matter how broke I’ll be, to high school.
Ain’t nothing like a flashback Friday to remind you why you were so happy to graduate in the first place.