alecto - your little bluejay (pollytrance) wrote,
alecto - your little bluejay
pollytrance

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The Story Of A Saturday Night, And Then Some... - 2/9/02

It began innocently enough. I had called Aaron and told him how much I missed him, and how we should hang out sometime soon, and I told him how Mya and I were planning to go to the Brendan and visit Cameron.

He said he should come too, because we hadn't hung out in a long time and it would be fun to see a movie. So the shit was set. I was late going over there, which is typical, but particularly so that night because I got all dressed up.

So dressed up in fact that through-out the course of the night people were honking and yelling out of their windows at me. A kid who looked to be about ten came up to me and said, "Hey there, cutie."

Call me when you're 18 sweetie.

Anyway, I got to Mya's only to find that Aaron didn't have any money and the check cashing place was closed. So Mya took Aaron's check and deposited it into her BofA account and she got so excited that it worked, that she flashed the ATM surveillance camera. One whole tit. It was craziness.

After we got our money situation squared away, we walked over to Brendan, and on the way, some stupid guys in a hoopti car rolled their windows down and were calling me "Hooker". Mya took matters into her own hands and shouted something like, "Shut the fuck up! She's not a fucking hooker! Don't you guys have any respect? Can't a girl walk down the street in a skirt without getting harassed? FUCK YOU!"

This made me laugh really hard, but also made me kind of scared because it happened right in front of the theater and everyone was staring.

So we approached the box-office, and Cameron was standing right there, selling tickets.

"There he is.." Aaron said, and raised an eyebrow at me.

We all go up to the window, and Mya goes, "Hi Cameron, this is Katie." Aaron says hello as well. I say hi, but find it difficult to look him in the face. Cameron says hello back.

There's a bit of conversation, most of which I am just watching because I have no idea what to say, and Mya keeps poking me in the ribs, saying, "Katie, talk to him!"

She reaches her hand into the box office and steals a piece of paper, and also opens the cash register drawer. Cameron looks shocked, and Aaron and me laugh. On the piece of paper she'd stolen, she writes, "Hit on Katie." He smiles, but says nothing. Mya suggests that she and Aaron go have a cigarette away from the box office. I dig my nails into her arm and say, "No, I'll come with you."

Aaron and Cameron are left alone at the box office and Mya and I are whispering hurriedly to each other with our backs to them. I turn around to make sure the boys aren't watching, but I'm horrified to see Aaron staring and Cameron craning his neck to see what's going on. I tell Mya I am too scared to say anything to him, and she says that with the way things are going, he probably thinks SHE'S flirting with him. I say, yes, and now they probably think we're girl talking about them. We sigh.

So what happens next? Mya asks Cameron if he wants to get dinner with us after he gets off work. He says no, that he just ate, and then his boss comes in to tell him that they need to close the box office.

"We're closing," he says. "Thanks for coming by."

Mya and Aaron say goodbye and I sigh heavily thinking, THANK GOD the pressure's off!! As I turn to walk away, I hear a voice resounding out of the box office speakers. "BYE, KATIE!" Cameron says loudly into the microphone. I wave idiotically and turn deep red, and then turn and walk away. Don't say my name. I melt when a boy says my name. They have this strange power when it happens. Never do it again.

Mya and Aaron bicker about whether or not Cameron's gay.

We walk back to my car, and find a parking ticket for $20 under the windshield.

"WHO THE FUCK PUT THIS HERE??" Mya yells.

And then this ugly bitch in an obnoxiously green Ford rolls down her window and says, "I did."

"We were only gone for ten minutes, we had to go to the bank... we didn't actually go anywhere, and no one else needs these spaces." I protest.

"You left the property," The bitch says, with an upturned nose.

"This is bullshit," Aaron says.

"Tough luck, Jap." The bitch says, then drives off.

"This is a racial issue," Mya says. "We don't have to pay this."

We get in my car and continue to bitch about how unfair it is that we got that ticket, and find more and more inaccuracies on the ticket which, if attention was brought to, would make it so we didn't have to pay. I say it's only twenty dollars and I'd rather just have those fucking cunts choke on it than go to court, which would probably cost more.

So, we drive to Andy's and on the way, we find a ghetto ass hubcap, but put it in my car anyway, as a souvenir. We get to Andy's, enjoy our food, and then leave, quite a bit more relaxed. Then we go to a liquor store and I buy two packs of Marlboro Reds for my companions. Yay! 17-year-old me buying cigarettes. I think it was because of the way I was dressed though. The guy at the counter kept calling me honey and never asked for my ID. He just asked me how old I was. I came out with the cigarettes and Aaron and Mya give me these toothy, victorious grins. We win.

So it's one o' clock by this time, and I don't have to go to Stefan's until three, so I'm like... "Do you guys wanna just drive for a while?"

So we do. We sing Disney songs at the top of our lungs and honk at people. Pretty soon, we find we're not in Concord/Pleasant Hill anymore. We're in Walnut Creek, but we keep driving.

We drive to Danville, Sunol, and a place called Alamo, where we stop at a 7-11 to pee and to get snacks. Some dumb jock teenagers ask us who's 21, because they need beer. We tell them none of us are. Then the clerk at the 7-11 asks us what clubs we go to. We're not 18, we tell him. Then he asks Aaron whether he is a boy or girl, and Aaron rolls his eyes. Then the jocks come in one by one trying to buy beer, and when they don't succeed, they try to sell us weed. We discover a wonderful little laundromat next door and hang out in there for a while. I grab an empty box of tide and use it as a souvenir. Mya and myself vow to come back here and film an installment of the Laundromat Confessions. Mya unwraps a maxi-pad and sticks it to my windshield.

Then we leave, and we drive to

*Dublin
*Pleasanton
*Fremont
*Hayward
*Union City
*Milipitas
*San Jose
*Santa Clara
*Campbell
*Mountain View
*Los Gatos ... (when we get here, we realise we're headed the wrong way, not towards home, but towards Santa Cruz, and decide it would be so much fun to make this night, the first ever that Mya has no curfew, into a road trip where we sleep on a beach and wake up to the sun shining on us in Santa Cruz)
*SANTA CRUZ
*Scott's Valley
*San Lorenzo
*Oakland
*Berkeley
*Lafayette
*Orinda
*Bay Point (of course, not necessarily in that order).

When we got to Santa Cruz, it was three am. I realised I only had two pillows and one blanket in my car, and it probably wouldn't be a good idea to go to sleep on a beach in a town we know pretty much nothing about, except that it's fun during the day. So we drive to a few hotels, and the only ones that are in our price range are either totally full or totally ghetto. So after getting lost amidst the haze of one-way streets, this guy on a bike flags us down. We roll down the window to talk to him and he says that he has some white if we're interested. We tell him no, we're just looking for a place to stay for the night, but if we change our minds we'll come and find him. He gets a bit closer to the car and Mya recoils a bit. "Chill out." he says. "You can stay at my place if you want. It's cheap, cos it's free." We politely decline and then decide we shouldn't stay there, but we should just get gas and get the fuck out.

After getting lost among all the one way streets again and the dangerous, ghetto looking hotels, we run into another guy on a bike, who decides it's a good idea to chase us down. Only a crackhead would think he could match a car's speed, especially uphill. One thing that was great about our run from the crackhead on the bike was that we found our way into a harbour and it smelled so wonderful there. It smelled like Pirates of the Caribbean, which is one of Mya's, Aaron's and my favourite smells.

We find our way back to the main road, where there's a Chevron, but on our way back, the guy who tried to sell us coke sees us drive past and tries to catch up with us, probably under the impression that now we feel like buying some, and have come back. So we start to panic, and I'm going way too fast, but finally we round a corner and appear to have lost him.

Mya, who has gotten into the highly-criticised habit of calling EVERYONE nigga, turns to me and says, "Hey, is that nigga still following us?" The worst part about all this, is that the guy on the bike is actually black.

I say, in a whisper, for some stupid reason, "Mya! Don't say nigga, he'll know!"

"Fine," she says, smiling. "Is that nice man who sells coke still following us?"

Aaron checks, and he is long gone. So we go to a gas station, get gas, energy drinks, keychains, snacks, and water. We are prepared to make the two hour journey back home. I take some caffeine pills with my energy drink and call Stefan. It is now four.

"Where are you? What area code is 831?" he says. (I paged him)

"Promise you won't get mad?" I say.

"Where are you?" He says. He sounds like he's rolling his eyes. It makes me giggle.

"Santa Cruz..." I say.

"What are you doing in Santa Cruz?" He says.

"We got lost." I say.

"How do you get lost and end up in Santa Cruz?" Yes. We are dumb. But it was a fucking magical experience that I wouldn't trade for the world.

"I don't know," I say. Mya is begging me to let her drive my car. I give her the keys and tell her to be careful.

"I don't think I have the money to get down there," Stefan says.

"No, I'm just calling to tell you that I'm gonna be late to your house." I say. "We're coming home. I just wanted to call so you wouldn't worry."

"Oh, ok. I'll see you in a while then." He says.

And for some reason, I just want to give him a really big hug, and tell him I love him. But I chicken out.

"143," I say.

"143 is right," he says. We say our goodbyes, and hang up, Mya asks me if she did a good job driving. She did indeed. Then we set out back home. We got back to Concord around six, and we dropped Mya off. She traipsed sleepily off into the house, and then I went to Bay Point and dropped Aaron off. He gave me a kiss and said he would call me, but I haven't heard from him. Heh. He's probably still sleeping. On the way to Aaron's house, we got to watch the sun come up while we were listening to Faithless.

I got to Stefan's at around seven am looking disheveled, but somehow glamorous. I took off my boots and my fishnets, gave him the Santa Cruz keychain I bought him, and we slept in each other's arms for about an hour. I couldn't bring myself to tell him how much I loved him then either. I just shut my eyes. Then, I had to leave, so that I could be home around nine without my mom calling around to find out whose house I spent the night at. Stefan drove his car alongside mine to make sure I got home ok, and when I got home, my mom asked me what I'd done all night.

"We hung out and Andy's." I told her, and smiled. My Santa Cruz keychain jingled as I walked down the hall into my room to get some much needed sleep, and my car sat outside and rested after the 360 mile journey.

Later, when I woke up, I called Stefan and told him I didn't know if we should be together, because I had a sick feeling about it. I told him that it wasn't because I didn't like him, because I do, I love him, it was just because I'd rather not see us waste our time on something that will end, and probably end badly.

So he came over, and we did some more talking, and for the first time ever, he told me, he really told me, it was no dream, that he loved me too.

This was the most fucking magical weekend ever.

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