Today I took a trip back into junior high. Well, not MY junior high… but A junior high certainly. At 11:30am, I arrived at Woodland Junior High, finished listening to the song that was playing, checked the car for dead things and then headed toward the small, prison-esque building. Opening the door with one hand, I pushed my pink sunglasses back with the other and when I walked in I came eye to eye with a ninth grade boy that looked extemely familiar. “Poo. He is taller than me,” I thought to myself (although I probably did not since I am now used to people being taller than me) as I headed toward the window of the office.
I poked my head in and asked where I could find the boys I was looking for and recieved only blank stares. Honestly, it was probably deserved since my exact words were, “I’m looking for Gideon and the other boys that are leaving with him….” They asked me impossible questions like “Where is he?” and “Who are the other boys?” Really now people, if I knew I bet I wouldn’t be asking you, would I? One of the members of his band finally recognized me and asked if I would sign them all out but when I tried I was told I couldn’t because I was not on any emergency contact list.
“Not even my own brother?”
“Not even your own brother.”
Jerks. So I waited around for, you know, nearly an hour… then carted around three girls and a drummer in my car.
Sweet kids but they spoke in metaphors. Actually, they spoke in one long metaphor that went something like this, “He looked at me and I was like *flips hair* and so he like turned away and I looked at Dee and she like made a face and then we all like turned and walked away and it was so funny.”
They never made statements. The words that would have been at the end of the sentences raised in tone, much like the end of a question is raised, then followed by an “and.” So what I had in my car were three chattering girls who spoke in enlongated metaphorical questions.
Wow, that sounds much cooler than it actually was.