Yesterday, after taking a strenuous hike, my tummy was talking to me…it was 3 pm and I had not eaten lunch.
Hot and sweaty, I headed into town for a quick bite.
At the exact time that high school dismissal was happening, I found myself smack dab in the middle of things, surrounded by hundreds of teenagers pouring out of school.
I flashed back decades, my high school years passing before me.
Instantaneously, the pieces and pecking order lined up and it was apparent that little, other than hemlines, has changed within the teenage subculture.
The confident females strutted out of the classrooms, flaunting long, thin cellulite free legs sticking out of obscenely short denim cut offs.
Hair flipping was the universal exercise.
Many donned midriff tops with the requisite colored bra straps hugging their slim shoulders and peeking out from under monotone tank tops.
I harkened back to the days when our principal would parade down the wide corridors, large yellow yardstick in hand and command us to kneel in front of her.
The purpose of the genuflecting was to see if our skirts or dress lengths touched the floor, validating ladylike appropriateness.
The short hemmed sluts were sent home.
I was booted once for wearing, wait for it, culottes.
How times have changed.
The cool guys still wear jeans hangin’ off their nonexistent booties and a plethora of blonde hair swept across smooth foreheads.
The self conscious girls wore black yoga and sweat pants, grey sweatshirts in 90 degree weather with flannel shirts tied tightly around their waists.
The awkward guys, exuding their nerdiness, had on soiled grey sweatshirts with the hoods up, many wore glasses and walked quickly with their heads down.
The mothers who dared to wait outside the car were quickly dismissed.
One girl grabbed the dog leash out of her mother’s hand, quickly walked off without so much as saying, ‘hello mom.’ She then turned and with venom spewing shouted, “Where the fuck did you park the car?”
Lovely. I’m sure she passed etiquette class with flying colors.
Farther up the hill, the parents who were veterans of school pick up and wilely enough to avoid the traffic, sat in their Range Rovers and SUV’s talking on their cells or reading.
Other moms formed a coffee klatch and gabbed away.
After observing for a bit, I crossed the road with the masses and beat everyone to the other side as I was the only one crossing without perusing my cell.
As I was about to break away, a dad waved to his daughter from his Porsche and she turned away. He continued to honk and the inappropriately dressed kid gave him a look that could wither his hanging fruit.
As much as I crave a tight bod and an unwrinkled visage, I would not want to be back in high school.
It was an interesting moment in time.
For sure…I flicked my hair and picked up speed as eating was now like my total priority.
Discover more from If The Devil Had Menopause
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Yesterday, after taking a strenuous hike, my tummy was talking to me…it was 3 pm and I had not eaten lunch.
Hot and sweaty, I headed into town for a quick bite.
At the exact time that high school dismissal was happening, I found myself smack dab in the middle of things, surrounded by hundreds of teenagers pouring out of school.
I flashed back decades, my high school years passing before me.
Instantaneously, the pieces and pecking order lined up and it was apparent that little, other than hemlines, has changed within the teenage subculture.
The confident females strutted out of the classrooms, flaunting long, thin cellulite free legs sticking out of obscenely short denim cut offs.
Hair flipping was the universal exercise.
Many donned midriff tops with the requisite colored bra straps hugging their slim shoulders and peeking out from under monotone tank tops.
I harkened back to the days when our principal would parade down the wide corridors, large yellow yardstick in hand and command us to kneel in front of her.
The purpose of the genuflecting was to see if our skirts or dress lengths touched the floor, validating ladylike appropriateness.
The short hemmed sluts were sent home.
I was booted once for wearing, wait for it, culottes.
How times have changed.
The cool guys still wear jeans hangin’ off their nonexistent booties and a plethora of blonde hair swept across smooth foreheads.
The self conscious girls wore black yoga and sweat pants, grey sweatshirts in 90 degree weather with flannel shirts tied tightly around their waists.
The awkward guys, exuding their nerdiness, had on soiled grey sweatshirts with the hoods up, many wore glasses and walked quickly with their heads down.
The mothers who dared to wait outside the car were quickly dismissed.
One girl grabbed the dog leash out of her mother’s hand, quickly walked off without so much as saying, ‘hello mom.’ She then turned and with venom spewing shouted, “Where the fuck did you park the car?”
Lovely. I’m sure she passed etiquette class with flying colors.
Farther up the hill, the parents who were veterans of school pick up and wilely enough to avoid the traffic, sat in their Range Rovers and SUV’s talking on their cells or reading.
Other moms formed a coffee klatch and gabbed away.
After observing for a bit, I crossed the road with the masses and beat everyone to the other side as I was the only one crossing without perusing my cell.
As I was about to break away, a dad waved to his daughter from his Porsche and she turned away. He continued to honk and the inappropriately dressed kid gave him a look that could wither his hanging fruit.
As much as I crave a tight bod and an unwrinkled visage, I would not want to be back in high school.
It was an interesting moment in time.
For sure…I flicked my hair and picked up speed as eating was now like my total priority.
Discover more from If The Devil Had Menopause
Subscribe to get the latest posts sent to your email.