Girl A: Yo, Biatch! I just saw your baby daddy!
Girl B: Where he at?
Girl A: Food Court. Where else?
Girl B: That
I followed with a quick stop at Walgreens to grab some Diet Coke and a copy of US Weekly to satisfy my trashy celebrity "news" craving and heard the following:
Scene: Customer is talking on her cell phone, in an obvious rush, and hands the cashier a $100 bill for roughly $30 of merchandise...
Cashier: Joe, you denuded my drawer of all the small bills. I cannot break this customer's $100 bill.
Now, I could see in the drawer, and my many years of till experience at Record Town told me she clearly had more than enough change in $10 bills to go along with the one $20 bill she had. But that's almost beside the point. The cashier reminded me of someone from my past in such a striking way it was almost eerie. I have not heard the word "denuded" since I was a student at Oakland University. I had applied to the university and was asked to go to campus for a scholarship competition at Meadowbrook Hall. The day consisted of a tour of the mansion, lunch and an exam including a blue book essay. In the little time we had to chat with people, I met a girl named Trista. I later found out that my mom had lunch with her mom that day. In yet another fluke, we were roommates at orientation. She commuted, and I lived on campus, and we would regularly run into each other and hang out occasionally. She tried to get me to join the Society for Creative Anachronism (SCA) with her. I went to one meeting, where I heard the word denuded uttered by someone who was discussing having difficulty passing college algebra - I believe she was stating she felt denuded of her self-confidence because she was struggling so much with the class. It was then that I decided that the melodrama of SCA wasn't for me (that and hearing about pre-17th century role playing...shall I call for a chimney sweep??). I did end up hanging out with some of the people I met there, but I definitely remained on the fringe. But holy flashback, Batman! I can't believe that was over fifteen years ago already. I feel denuded of my sense of time!
1 comment:
US Weekly? I love you, Carrie May.
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