Friday, August 26, 2005
Reading the Halifax Daily News today, I came across, not one, but two pieces on missing Halifax teens. One is missing for the second time while the other is a fresh case. The latter girl was described as wearing a white t-shirt that read 'Kick Me' across the front. The description stood out, possibly because I thought the shirt was a little clever, but I think owning up to that makes me sound boring and that's something I wish to avoid.
A 'Kick Me' shirt is one of those things that you think is going to be so awesome when your friends see you in it. My brother and I totally thought that people at our school were going to think we were hot shit in white Miami Vice style blazers with hot pink t-shirts underneath when we were younger. Looking back now I know I was lucky not to have tasted more dirt.
A 'Kick Me' shirt is cool for about five minutes. That five minutes is a big enough window of time for you to leave the house and not realize that you look like an idiot. Five, ten years later, you will see yourself in thatwhite blazer shirt and want to beat yourself up.
A few hours after reading the articles I see three adults escorting a young girl from the Halifax Commons. They're not terribly impressed, one might even describe two of them as being pissed off. The young girl looks embarassed.
One of the gentlemen who is escorting leads her to a sedan, she gets in and he closes the door behind her. The woman accompanying them gets in the front passenger seat and begins to look straight ahead. It is a look my mom has practiced many times before whether it be the time I spent an entire mass making jokes and laughing with Stephen Fifield while we were altar serving, or the time my parents were told that I was threatened with suspension for giving my English teacher a hard time. (To be fair, she deserved it, she had us, 17 year olds in 1996, working on a play that Wayne and Schuster had performed 20-25 years earlier. Now I like Wayne and Schuster, but jokes about the Six Million Dollar Man aren't that funny or relevant now or ten years ago. Get me some decent material or I walk.)
The two gentlemen have a brief exchange and return to their respective vehicles. The young girl in the back seat stares out the passenger window into oblivion. She looks like she realizes that she has committed a really really stupid act, not unlike the epiode of Degrassi in which Stephanie Kaye realizes that hanging out with the feathered hair star of Canadian soap opera in a shady part of town on a school night in a tube top is pretty damn stupid. The adults in the sedan, presumably proud, proud parents, stare straight ahead and don't acknowledge their daughter. This is not unlike the time that my parents caught me skipping school at Frenchy's Discount Clothing Warehouse. They were convinced that of their three children, I was the only one who had ever missed school without a valid excuse.
The girl in the back of the sedan was wearing a white t-shirt with the words 'Kick Me' across the front.
A 'Kick Me' shirt is one of those things that you think is going to be so awesome when your friends see you in it. My brother and I totally thought that people at our school were going to think we were hot shit in white Miami Vice style blazers with hot pink t-shirts underneath when we were younger. Looking back now I know I was lucky not to have tasted more dirt.
A 'Kick Me' shirt is cool for about five minutes. That five minutes is a big enough window of time for you to leave the house and not realize that you look like an idiot. Five, ten years later, you will see yourself in that
A few hours after reading the articles I see three adults escorting a young girl from the Halifax Commons. They're not terribly impressed, one might even describe two of them as being pissed off. The young girl looks embarassed.
One of the gentlemen who is escorting leads her to a sedan, she gets in and he closes the door behind her. The woman accompanying them gets in the front passenger seat and begins to look straight ahead. It is a look my mom has practiced many times before whether it be the time I spent an entire mass making jokes and laughing with Stephen Fifield while we were altar serving, or the time my parents were told that I was threatened with suspension for giving my English teacher a hard time. (To be fair, she deserved it, she had us, 17 year olds in 1996, working on a play that Wayne and Schuster had performed 20-25 years earlier. Now I like Wayne and Schuster, but jokes about the Six Million Dollar Man aren't that funny or relevant now or ten years ago. Get me some decent material or I walk.)
The two gentlemen have a brief exchange and return to their respective vehicles. The young girl in the back seat stares out the passenger window into oblivion. She looks like she realizes that she has committed a really really stupid act, not unlike the epiode of Degrassi in which Stephanie Kaye realizes that hanging out with the feathered hair star of Canadian soap opera in a shady part of town on a school night in a tube top is pretty damn stupid. The adults in the sedan, presumably proud, proud parents, stare straight ahead and don't acknowledge their daughter. This is not unlike the time that my parents caught me skipping school at Frenchy's Discount Clothing Warehouse. They were convinced that of their three children, I was the only one who had ever missed school without a valid excuse.
The girl in the back of the sedan was wearing a white t-shirt with the words 'Kick Me' across the front.
# posted by Die Brucke @ 6:48 PM 
