2008 marks ten glorious years of post-collegiate adulthood. How the fuck those ten years got away from me is beyond me. They were a fairly decent set of years, and boy oh boy have I learned a lot.
WHAT HAVE YOU LEARNED, MO?
The summer I was twenty, a dude tried to get Mara and I partake in marijuana and then provide "some play" to him on a Chicago-bound Greyhound bus. Dude (African-American, early twenties) chose us (Jewish/Armenian-American, early twenties) out of all the fine ladies hitting Chi-town and we were supposed to think of this as a great honor. At the time, I was confused and creeped out. Is this guy serious? Does he really think that two classy young ladies such as ourselves are really going to "smoke some bud and then some black pole?" Only recently has it hit me: yes, Mo, his aim was true! He really did want you to do those things! For free, even!
As I recall, that uncomfortable encounter went on for a really long time:
Stoned Guy: You ladies smoke bud?
M&M: No
SG: You wanna smoke some bud right now?
M&M: No
SG: It's good bud. You could smoke some bud and then some black pole. I got a lot of that.
M&M: No
SG: Why not? You ladies are fine. You be giving it up for someone?
M&M: No
SG: Why not? Why you not giving no man no play? (later joked about every time Yoplait yogurt was eaten: hey Mara, why aren't you giving no man Yoplait?)
M&M: I don't know.
SG: You be fine. You ain't lezzies or nothing?
M&M: No
SG: Then why you not giving no man no play? You wanna smoke some bud?
We both offered him a lot of passive "no thank yous," but NOW that I am older, wiser, and more of a bad-ass than I was back in those days, I would have been louder, more forceful. "No, asshole, I am not interested in smoking some bud and hitting your stick, thank you very much! Do you really think that I would fellate a stranger on the Greyhound for marijuana? I'm a classy broad, and if I'm going to suck your dick, you've got to matriculate at a prestigious four-year institution, 'cuz that's how I roll. Thanks, and I wish you the best of luck in your endeavors."
So everytime I think that the last ten years were for naught, I'm going to remind myself that I now have the shaming tools I need to put down a stoned man on the Greyhound bus, even though now I am probably too old to receive such an offer. Oh well.
And of course, happy birthday to Doug!