Time Heals Most Wounds
In the 8th Grade, I had turned down the chance to go to the Art Magnet School in Las Vegas because I wanted to finish out my last year of junior high with my friends. Ironically, that was the year I got bumped from the track I was in with my friends, and put into the one that didn't have advanced art. Instead I had to take multicultural lit with Mrs. Mingleton, who I had the previous year for English and loathed like burning.
( Epic story of middle school shenanigans. )
So. You know where this story is going, right?
Obviously: I canvassed her house today and she came to my door, with her proud Barack Obama sign out. At first I didn't really recognize her, until I turned around and saw her husband's name on a pile of stuff -- right as I'd finished collecting the data and she'd shut the door.
I was going to slink off into the silent night in my mixture of 'oh shit' and mortification, but of course we bumped into each other not ten minutes later. She was all: don't I know you? And I was like, "Are you a Mingleton?" ETC ETC.
Thank God, she didn't mention that shit that went down. No, instead she gave me some punch and printed out some article she read on Ebony.com about Obama and said some line about how proud she was of me fighting the good fight, like she'd done some good in the world. And I told her that I lived in Chicago now (because I do, this is just temporary) and that I came back to help with this.
I probably should also have mentioned that I wrote my Freshmen essay on Henry O. Tanner at SAIC.
Mostly, though: dude. Las Vegans. This is the smallest big city in the damn world.
( Epic story of middle school shenanigans. )
So. You know where this story is going, right?
Obviously: I canvassed her house today and she came to my door, with her proud Barack Obama sign out. At first I didn't really recognize her, until I turned around and saw her husband's name on a pile of stuff -- right as I'd finished collecting the data and she'd shut the door.
I was going to slink off into the silent night in my mixture of 'oh shit' and mortification, but of course we bumped into each other not ten minutes later. She was all: don't I know you? And I was like, "Are you a Mingleton?" ETC ETC.
Thank God, she didn't mention that shit that went down. No, instead she gave me some punch and printed out some article she read on Ebony.com about Obama and said some line about how proud she was of me fighting the good fight, like she'd done some good in the world. And I told her that I lived in Chicago now (because I do, this is just temporary) and that I came back to help with this.
I probably should also have mentioned that I wrote my Freshmen essay on Henry O. Tanner at SAIC.
Mostly, though: dude. Las Vegans. This is the smallest big city in the damn world.