Welcome to the 'hood. A.K.A: "Here's a casserole and let me give ya the family cat while I'm at it."
So, we met this woman that lives across the street from us. She came over and gave mom this bowl with some obscure food in it. I was afraid to ask what it was, so I just gave the woman a fake smile and half-listened to what she was saying to me. It reminded me of those corny movies. You know the ones that are all about this girl who moves someplace new, and everyone’s all “Oh, it must be so hard for you to leave everything behind at this age”. But, you totally know they don’t actually give a crap. Yea, this woman was a total cliché.
So, here is what she said: “Oh, congratulations on your big move”. (She winked at me…I was officially freaked out). Then, I just gave a fake smirk, the one where you don’t fully smile, but show a little teeth. Normally, that kind of a smile is supposed to give NORMAL people the hint to LEAVE ME THE HECK ALONE, but I forgot. No one normal lives here. Then, she continues to ask me about my friends, my old school, and what made us move here, and I was not in the mood to go there. So, after mom went inside to put the miscellaneous bowl in the fridge, I made up this story to get rid of the crazy woman. I said that where we used to live was a major crime area. Then, I told her that there were huge men that used to follow me home from school, and my mom decided to move us here, for obvious reasons. Her eyes widened, like she was watching a mysterious soap opera, where the main character just got shot. Of course, she left after I told her that. This time, she gave ME the fake smile, and tried to sound casual, by saying, “Well, Earl's gonna be home any minute, so I better go fix supper”. I waved. Closed the door. And locked it.
Locking the door didn’t stop more people from coming over…even though I had hoped it would. There was this other lady and her husband that came over too. Normally, people who move into a new neighborhood get food as a welcoming gift. They brought us a cat. Anyways, we couldn’t keep it because mom told us that it probably had rabies or AIDS. And she thinks I’m the dramatic one.
The next person that came over was a tiny, little girl. She's only a few years older than Jacobi. Those two have been hanging out for two hours, already. It’s weird that when you are little, you can make a friend just like that, but when you are older, everybody’s like, “freak, loser, nerd, jock, cheerleader, prep, brainiac, prankster, nobody”. They label you before they even know you. You’re IN or OUT. I am usually labeled OUT, if you couldn’t already tell. People labeled OUT, are the ones with brains, unlike people labeled IN, who have none. It’s backwards, I know. But, I guess, when you’re little, if you like Barbies and have a collection of Play-doh, you’re always IN.