Let me tell you about the emo-est day of my life
Okay, so, first let's picture the scenery. It's a dull, windy, grey-sky kind of day, and the rain is coming down in that misty way that's not so heavy as to require an umbrella, but nontheless you get soaked just being in it. It's like heavy wetness is everywhere in the air.
Enter our protagonist, (me), she's got short brown hair that is hanging over her left eye. Her hair is messy and wet. Her black eyeliner compliments her black hoodie and black chuck taylors, and her torn blue jeans are soaked to the knees. Fortunately, she can't feel it because she's wearing striped black-and-white tights under her jeans. Her t-shirt is plain grey.
So, class time. Dinosaurs. The most utterly boring class ever. I'm tired, not for the hour, (it's 1:30 pm, afterall) but for a lack of sleep that bears no complaining, as it was due to a rather attractive overnight guest. Regardless, I'm tired, and a bit cranky from the lack of sleep. As I sit bored and listless in Dinosaurs, I feel that old familiar cramping and discomfort that can mean only one thing: that special time of the month.
Dinosaurs finally lets out, and our protagonist rushes to Odegaard to find a bathroom with working tampon dispenser. After three strikes, she happily finds one on the second floor. She opens her wallet - nickels, pennies, dimes...no quarters. She turns to the elderly woman washing her hands. "I'm sorry, do you have a quarter?" The woman's reply? "NO"
Seriously, that was it.
So, to the 2nd floor desk we go, only to find that they have no cash register. Back downstairs. "Can I get a quarter for two dimes and a nickel?" "Sure," they say, but I'm not a few steps up the stairs when, can you believe, the guy at the counter is running behind me going, "Wait wait! This is a Canadian nickel! Do you have a REAL nickel?" Like, for-fucking-really? All I'm trying to do is buy a goddamn tampon, and you're going to chase me down for five cents? Fuck you. I'm cranky. A monetary exchange is made.
Finally, the necessary items are purchased, and we cramp our way through the utter bore that is Typography class. Post class, we hop on a bus to take us downtown. It's 5pm, it's dark, it's rainy, it's cold. Finally, we drag our sad ass to the Showbox box office.
The cute boy at the counter says, "Hi! What can I do for you?"
She asks, "One for Bright Eyes?"
The look on the counter boy's face is all that is required. His face absolutely falls and it's obvious how very much he does not want to be the one to tell this pathetic person that the show sold out in two hours. Very sweetly he breaks the news to the utter dismay of the girl, who then sloshes home in the rain again.
Seriously though, my eyes welled up when he told me. I mean, long day and PMS notwithstanding of course, but man it was a blow! What icing on the cake of the day, and how very terribly disappointing.
Ah, I'm still sad.
Enter our protagonist, (me), she's got short brown hair that is hanging over her left eye. Her hair is messy and wet. Her black eyeliner compliments her black hoodie and black chuck taylors, and her torn blue jeans are soaked to the knees. Fortunately, she can't feel it because she's wearing striped black-and-white tights under her jeans. Her t-shirt is plain grey.
So, class time. Dinosaurs. The most utterly boring class ever. I'm tired, not for the hour, (it's 1:30 pm, afterall) but for a lack of sleep that bears no complaining, as it was due to a rather attractive overnight guest. Regardless, I'm tired, and a bit cranky from the lack of sleep. As I sit bored and listless in Dinosaurs, I feel that old familiar cramping and discomfort that can mean only one thing: that special time of the month.
Dinosaurs finally lets out, and our protagonist rushes to Odegaard to find a bathroom with working tampon dispenser. After three strikes, she happily finds one on the second floor. She opens her wallet - nickels, pennies, dimes...no quarters. She turns to the elderly woman washing her hands. "I'm sorry, do you have a quarter?" The woman's reply? "NO"
Seriously, that was it.
So, to the 2nd floor desk we go, only to find that they have no cash register. Back downstairs. "Can I get a quarter for two dimes and a nickel?" "Sure," they say, but I'm not a few steps up the stairs when, can you believe, the guy at the counter is running behind me going, "Wait wait! This is a Canadian nickel! Do you have a REAL nickel?" Like, for-fucking-really? All I'm trying to do is buy a goddamn tampon, and you're going to chase me down for five cents? Fuck you. I'm cranky. A monetary exchange is made.
Finally, the necessary items are purchased, and we cramp our way through the utter bore that is Typography class. Post class, we hop on a bus to take us downtown. It's 5pm, it's dark, it's rainy, it's cold. Finally, we drag our sad ass to the Showbox box office.
The cute boy at the counter says, "Hi! What can I do for you?"
She asks, "One for Bright Eyes?"
The look on the counter boy's face is all that is required. His face absolutely falls and it's obvious how very much he does not want to be the one to tell this pathetic person that the show sold out in two hours. Very sweetly he breaks the news to the utter dismay of the girl, who then sloshes home in the rain again.
Seriously though, my eyes welled up when he told me. I mean, long day and PMS notwithstanding of course, but man it was a blow! What icing on the cake of the day, and how very terribly disappointing.
Ah, I'm still sad.