brotherhood of the travelling pants.

with my bag of groceries, i boarded the nine this evening. i went to the back of the bus. every time i head for the back of the bus, i have to wonder about this whole concept of second-class citizenry. we were all minority males back there today. there were these three guys, who had to be in their late teens or early twenties, and they were talking to each other. sometimes, too, i am arrogant enough to think that i will be made fun of. i go through life waiting to play the victim. after all, i am dressed like a j. crew tool, taking public transportation.

i didn't pay much attention until the boys started talking about girls. i waited for them to brag about how much pussy they got, as this is what i'm used to hearing from a bunch of boys their age. they fit the profile: one looked half-black, another looked half-black, half-asian, and the third looked half-black, half-mexican. "i bet i can tell what kind of girls you're into," one said to the other. "yeah? what then?" "either white girls, or asian girls." they all laughed. "yeah, i'm into asian girls." "what about me?" the third asked. "what kind of girls you think i'm into?" "i'd say half-black, or asian." they laughed again. he was right.

this talk of women really seemed to get the discussion going. it brought me back to fifth, sixth grade slumber parties, total catholic school sausage fests, where we boys would finally have to admit to having a crush on so-and-so. i tended to like these moments, as girly and pointless as they were. it was thrilling to say aloud who you'd been thinking about all year, as though voicing it might have somehow brought it closer to a reality. when you made it known, it was like she was already yours; someone who could finally save you from the loneliness of adolescence. but that's what catholic school did. it made you feel guilty for being attracted to someone of the opposite sex. you would just have to carry your dirty little secret until you were thirty, old enough to get married.

the boys kept their discussion going. "girls won't know if you like them or not. i don't give a fuck if you're holding a cardboard sign that says, 'i like you' and you're standing on a garbage can screaming it, she still won't know. until you actually look her in the eyes and tell her." it was breaking me that these ghetto gangsters at the back of the bus were being so emo.

1 comment:

ultrafknbd said...

M├Ądchen Amick! *sigh*