Jeneration X: One Reluctant Adult's Attempt to Unarrest Her Arrested Development; Or, Why It's Never Lancaster, Jen (read more books .txt) đ
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Stacey and her family volunteer every year at the Glass Slipper Project, a nonprofit organization that gives away free prom dresses and accessories to high school juniors and seniors in the Chicago area. This is another one that makes my heart smile. If Pretty in Pink taught us anything, itâs that no girl should ever miss her prom, Blaine. Except Molly Ringwaldâs dress was tragic so Iâm particularly on board with the idea of needy young ladies receiving a new or gently used dress so they donât have to bust out their sewing machines.
A few days before the event Stacey calls me.
âWhat size do you wear?â she asks.
I already dislike where this is going. âWhy?â
âBecause I need to know what size T-shirt to get you for the Glass Slipper Project.â
I feel a quick whoosh of relief. âOh, no, thanks. I donât want a shirt.â In my brief tenure as a professional volunteer thus far, Iâve learned that the shirts are kind of a status symbol. Everyone shows up to volunteer in T-shirts advertising other charities where theyâve worked, kind of like concert tees, only for do-gooding. Itâs like everyoneâs trying to one-up another; I see your 5K Fun Run for MS tee and Iâll raise you one Half Marathon for Habitat for Humanity! Personally, I choose to break the cycle of one-upmanship by forgoing the swag.
Iâm excited about the day because it sounds like fun and Stacey says everyoneâs always so happy. Last year she was a personal shopper, meaning she helped various girls find their dresses, accessories, makeup, etc. However, she says the best job is doing checkout because you get to see what everyone has picked, which may work for me because Iâm more nosy than helpful. Mind you, I remember her story from a while back when one of her girls didnât think to wear any undergarmentsâany, at allâand Stacey spent her day functioning as a human shield. So when she mentioned the checkout area was the only place with chairs and I wouldnât have to see anyone naked, I was sold.
âActually, you do. Everyone wears matching T-shirts to indicate whoâs staffing the event. Kind of like they do at Target.â
Nooooooo! Wearing matching T-shirts is the first step towards donning a costume. I panic a little. âWhat if I donât want to wear a stupid shirt?â
Staceyâs all matter-of-fact. âYou have to wear the shirt in order to volunteer.â
But Iâm having none of this. âYou know who made people wear matching shirts?â I ask. âNazis, thatâs who.â
âIs this really an issue for you?â
I begin to break into panic sweat. âAbsolutely! One day itâs matching T-shirts and the next itâs me and a bunch of other assholes dressed as Stormtroopers and Ewoks and Yodas and shit going to Comic-Con. Matching T-shirts are the gateway drug to all things Dungeons and Dragons. So, no. No shirt. No, sir. No, thank you. Iâm going to sit this one out.â Immaturity trumps altruism every time.
Every week Stacey and I meet our best girlfriends, Gina and Tracey, for lunch. To say that none of us suffers fools gladly would be an understatement, but no one quite takes this to the extent that Gina does. Thereâs a certain phrase that Gina reserves for the most obstinate, the most ridiculous, and the most frustrating among us. She reserves it for dire situations, like when dealing with a third-world call center. Sheâll take whatever bullshit they spew and simply restates it so that whoever said it first can hear exactly how stupid they sound. Troubleâs afoot when you hear Gina begin a sentence with, âSo what youâre telling me isâŠâ
Stacey pauses a moment to collect her thoughts before she says, âSo what youâre telling me is that you donât want to help needy girls with their prom dresses because youâre afraid it will one day cause you to dress like C-3PO.â
I mull this over.
âIâll take whatever size shirt you get.â
âAll righty. See you on Saturday!â
Reluctant Adult Lesson Learned:
Taking feels good but giving feels great, even if you have to do it in a stupid shirt.
C·H·A·P·T·E·R T·W·O
The Evolution of a Bad Idea
10:15 P.M.âHmm, getting late. I should get ready for bed.
10:30 P.M.âHmm, getting even later. I should get ready for bed.
10:45 P.M.âSomeone on the Internet is mistaken and I must express my displeasure with many uppercase letters and exclamation points.
11:00 P.M.âItâs really not getting any earlier, is it?
11:10 P.M.âNightly skin inspection in bathroom mirror. Not perfect, but not bad for my age/lifestyle/aversion to sunscreen.
11:11 P.M.âHey, what would happen if I used a magnifying mirror during my inspection?
11:12 P.M.âSWEET JESUS, MAKE IT STOP!
11:13 P.M.âReinspect by light of bedside lamp. Ah, all better.
11:14 P.M.âBut what if I put in a brighter bulb?
11:15 P.M.âIS FURRY BEAST! KILL IT! KIIIIIIIIL IT!
11:16 P.M.ââWhat do you think Iâm doing? Iâm looking at my skin in this mirror. And Iâve either got to wax this mustache or start giving rides on it, ha ha!â
11:16 P.M.ââWhat do you mean, âI donât think that expression means what you think it meansâ?â
11:17 P.M.âOh. Then that man at Target with the FREE MUSTACHE RIDES logo was wearing a very dirty shirt.
11:18 P.M.ââI would like to amend my previous statement. I need to wax this mustache or learn to twirl it, ha ha!â
11:19 P.M.âI should tweeze this thing.
11:20 P.M.âI should find my tweezers.
11:21 P.M.âOw. Ow. Ow. Ow. Ow.
11:22 P.M.âScrew this. I need a professional waxing. Must make an appointment.
11:25 P.M.âCanât. Stop. Fondling. Mustache.
11:30 P.M.âFine, Iâll do the goddamned thing myself.
11:40 P.M.âCanât find new tub of wax I purchased for just this very occasion, so locate old container. Is very old. Is possibly the exact same tub that Mosesâ wife used to remove her unwanted facial hair. (Desert light is unforgiving.)
11:41 P.M.âBut itâs wax. Itâs not like it could go bad, right?
11:42 P.M.ââIâm not âbanging around and keeping you awake.â Iâm doing
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