“. . “I see you, ma,” poured from behind me as I stepped onto Skate Paradise’s scene—straight confirming my suspicions and intentions to be fly. And divaliciously work my roller blades. Wear the heck out of my black, painted-on short-shorts and black-and-gold tank top, complemented by my Rick Ross dookey chain. And bamboo earrings—with the word Bad running across one and Girl running across the other. Bam! It was Old Skool Eighties Night and since showing up here was last minute for me, I had no... choice but to rock my new skool–old-skool-esque gear. You get the picture. And besides, all that mattered, at least at this moment, was that I was doing it, right? Nobody in here needed to know that my boyfriend played me by falling asleep on me . . . again. And nobody needed to know that I’d eaten half of a pizza pie and then rudely screeched my woe-is-me soundtrack by skipping past saying good-bye and hitting a sleeping Zaire with a peace sign as I walked out the door. Nobody needed to know that, right?MoreLessRead More Read Less
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