Memory #142

I remember standing outside of Centennial High School, in Glendale, Arizona after taking my SATs, with all that fear of realizing I had to actually do something with my life, bitch slapping me like the pimp responsibility would turn out to be. At that exact moment, life was fucking my face and making me deep throat decisions like, Where will you work for the rest of your life? Who will you marry? How many children will you have? Will you be happy? Are you happy now? Does college make a difference in a persons’ life? Does anything make a difference in a persons’ life? Then, while charring beneath that “dry heat,” and seeping into the ether of that smattering of a mostly empty parking lot, I saw this blonde girl in a shitty, silver, 4-door sedan (if I was more of a man then, I may have been able to identify it further) drive past me. She was going over the speed limit, which was only 15mph, but it seemed rebellious at the time because that’s what I wanted to see. She had purple sunglasses on (they might have also been brown) and, most importantly, she had Ha Ha by Mates of State shouting as loud as it would go on her blown-out stereo and she was dancing, slightly. I wanted her to be my girlfriend. I remember this, but not many other things.