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Well,
just when I was just so happy with
everything in my life... especially with
me and Miguel, something had to come along
and ruin it. Oh, I'm jumping ahead. Okay,
I'll start at the beginning.
After
I went looking for Miguel in the woods
last week and we found each other, that
was so beautiful. And for the next few
days everything was perfect. Miguel came
back to school and he and I were totally
together, you know what I mean? And there
wasn't any more of that "stick to your own
kind" of crap that we had been hearing
from both sides of the table when we first
got together. No everything was copacetic,
for sure.
Then
Friday rolls around and I hear about this
party that my sister and some of her
friends were having. Felicia usually
doesn't want me anywhere near any parties
of hers, but this was different because
her best friend Rachel, whose sister Caryn
is my age, was also having some friends
over. So that's how I got invited. I told
Miguel about it and at first it seemed
like he didn't much want to go at all, you
know, like maybe he thought he'd be the
only Latino there and everyone else would
be black. But I told him that wasn't the
case (and like even if it was, who
cares?). But I knew it wouldn't be,
because Caryn, she's got all different
color friends. I told him that and he
changed his mind and we went.
You
could hear the music out in the street and
I was thinking they should probably turn
it down, you know, cause if the neighbors
started complaining and the cops were
called, it wouldn't be too cool,
especially since Rachel and Caryn's
parents weren't at home.
Inside
it was really crowded, but the vibes were
good and Miguel and I started dancing. I
introduced him around, and people were
friendly. We were having a good time when
Cleavon came up, smoking a joint. He
offered me some and I said no. (I've tried
pot, but the two times I did it all I got
was a really bad headache, so I figured,
why bother?) Then he offered some to
Miguel. Miguel reached for the joint and I
told him I didn't want him to smoke it.
(I've heard stories about guys who get
kinda aggressive with girls when they're
stoned, and I just didn't want to be
dealing with that.) Miguel probably was
only taking the smoke to be polite (I know
he doesn't normally do drugs) so it
probably was not a big deal to him. But
then Cleavon opened his big fat mouth and
said, "Hey Miguel! You gonna let your
woman tell you whether you can or can not
smoke some weed?"
And
he was so loud and obnoxious that I guess
Miguel felt like he had to prove something
to him or some such crap. Anyway, he says,
"No way, man!" and takes the joint. He
takes a long drag on it, like he's showing
off or something. Then it felt like he was
exhaling and blowing that sickly sweet
smoke right in my face. Oooh, that made me
mad!
So
I said I wanted to go. And Miguel, who was
looking kinda stoned silly said to me that
he wasn't ready to leave yet. And I said
that I was ready to leave. That's when
Cleavon felt like he needed to put in his
two cents and said, "Miguel, can't you
even decide for your own self when you
want to leave a party?" I told Cleavon to
shut up and keep his nose out of our
business and he said that it was the
business of any man to defend his right to
be a man and stand up to a woman. Can you
believe that crap? Miguel looked really
out of it and I just told him that I was
leaving and he could do whatever he
wanted. So I left.
When
I got home I was still mad so I put on
some Alanis and did some painting. I'm not
sure if it made me feel any better, but I
sure wasn't sorry that I left that
party.
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