If it’s major, hit me on my pager

9 Nov

I am going to get real with you today homies.

Yes, you read that correctly.

Today it’s 1996.  I am 15 years old.  I have a Meg Ryan inspired haircut-which I am not-repeat NOT pulling off well, I weigh 90 lbs, and I’m wearing jnco pants.

To clarify, that would be these:

In my case, my feet were never visible, which I assure you, made me hip. I am lacking boobs and an ass at this point.

Also, I live in the suburbs of Seattle.

So you know, practically Compton.

I have taken up the habit of cruising around in my best-friend’s car, attempting to smoke cigarettes (first time encountering this to be a later post-but let’s just re-emphasize that I am attempting, not really succeeding in smoking said cigarettes), and I have become temporarily obsessed with hip hop.  I have started referring to my friends as my homies, I’m convinced that one can never wear enough eyeliner, and if I could figure out how to slick my hair back into a tight ponytail with just two spirals hanging out on either side, you can bet your ass I’d be doing it (aforementioned haircut-an unfortunate side-effect from my previous punk phase despite my desperate desire to become a ganster-excuse me-gangsta).

I am in 10th grade, I am unpopular, and I have acne.  I also have been ordered by the orthodontist to wear headgear 14 hours a day, which I am rebelliously not doing (and yes mom, I still defend that decision).

So, I’m in my jncos, with a baby-toll tshirt which shows off my belly-button piercing (which I did myself-again, later post…), in my friend’s car, and we are cruising around parking lots in search of anything interesting.

By interesting, I mean boys.  Specifically, cute bad boys.

It says something about the male libido that they’d find me attractive, but the fact that they do works well for me.

This is not prep school readers, this is the ghetto.

Ok, so maybe we all saw Dangerous Minds one too many times, but regardless, here we are.

In a parking lot.  In a car.  Coughing cigarette smoke and trying to chat up boys.

Our vessel is her 1982 Honda.  It was at one time white, it is now various shades of dirt.  The driver door does not open so we both have to enter and exit the vehicle via passenger door.  We have slurpees instead of alcohol because we cannot get our hands on anything more adventurous than sugar-soaked ice.

We are listening to e40.  Specifically, we are listening to this song:

Which is of course, the song of my tenth grade year.  The song which inspired the months of begging my mother for a pager.  To page, to be paged, is the epitome of cool and I desperately want to be involved.

The song is reminding me that I don’t yet have a pager, but it’s also working in my favor because I know all the words and can bob my head slightly along in a bad-ass manner I learned from movies.

I will sit in that parking lot, in that car, in those jeans for the next three months before I decide I’m a rock girl.

A rock girl with a pager.

11 Responses to “If it’s major, hit me on my pager”

  1. Aims November 9, 2011 at 2:39 pm #

    Just wanted to let you know that once again you have made me smile. We were such dorks back then. I think my pager was green. Love you!

    • wanderingmenace November 9, 2011 at 2:44 pm #

      Hahahaha
      Well I think mine varied from blue to black and then green. The first two fell in the toilet and died, and I guess the last one was just short lived because I honestly cannot really remember using it by the time we were seniors. Did we or was this really just a 10th grade phenomenon?

      • Aims November 9, 2011 at 3:33 pm #

        Yeah I’m pretty sure it was a 10th grade phenomenon! Maybe a little while into 11th grade. But once we started driving I think we didn’t use them as much. Wow. We were special. I can remember how excited I was when I got that stupid thing! How different life was before we all had cell phones!

  2. megan lyons November 9, 2011 at 2:52 pm #

    hysterical as always ryan and just let me say I was THRILLED to
    see that wandering menace had returned. thanks to you ( and my third cup o coffee)
    my wednesday is off to a great start!

    • wanderingmenace November 9, 2011 at 3:00 pm #

      Well thanks Megan! Great to hear from you as well, take it easy on the coffee though, don’t get too wired! :)

  3. Courtney November 9, 2011 at 2:58 pm #

    Hah, I think I remember this phase! You pulled it off well in the suburbs. ;) I always wanted a pager, too, but alas, no one would fund it. Dope, homie, out.

    • wanderingmenace November 9, 2011 at 3:03 pm #

      Homeskillet,

      You and I will always be gangsta. Clearly, with our pale skin and mothers obsessed with Martha Stewart, we know how to channel our inner ghetto……

      The thought of me attempting to look like a badass in those pants makes me laugh everytime, so I guess it’s worth that :)

      • Sandy November 9, 2011 at 8:49 pm #

        You know, since Martha went to jail…she has street cred…she is the real gangsta

  4. wanderingmenace November 10, 2011 at 12:01 am #

    Nice Sandy,
    Way to give Thanksgiving stuffing recipes street cred, I knew they were lacking something……:)

  5. Bob November 10, 2011 at 12:12 am #

    Like ohhh my gawd, I can totally picture you doing that!

  6. gnetch November 10, 2011 at 3:35 am #

    Ha! You just reminded me of my teenage years! But I think you were way cooler.

    I used to wear baggy jeans (yes, failed attempt to get the hip-hop look, too) but I was obsessed with… (are you ready for this?) Nick Carter.

    But in my defense, I also loved Cranberries, Third Eye Blind and Matchbox 20 back then. I was slightly cool. :p

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