It was Casino Night at my old job when I spotted him. I thought he was handsome. “Handsome” is what I call men who aren’t my “typical” type, but good looking nevertheless. Being the shallow person I am, I took one look at him and knew I wasn’t his type. To confirm this, I turned around and asked my friend sitting next to me, “What kind of girl do you think he likes?” She took a look at his tattooed sleeves, almost skinny jeans and button-up and quickly responded, “Probably one that rides her fixie to work, wears biodegradable clothing, and grows her own vegetables in the backyard”. Then, we both watched as a brunette in a striped sweater sat down next to him. “Or a girl like her,” she added.
Ask any of my friends, I think everyone is pretty. I thought she was pretty too. Plain, but pretty. Guys like plain though. They like simple. I’m going to be that girl. I’m going to tone it down. Not expose my tattoos, maybe even take out my lip ring. I’m going to throw away all my big earrings, and double-finger rings. No more BOTB, no more Civil, no more Crooks & Castles. And I’ll only wear a beanie if it’s snowing outside.
I got off BART the other day and saw a woman walking up the stairs in all black except for her three-inch red stilettos. Around one arm was a large overnight bag. In one hand her purse, and in the other a cup off coffee. Yet, she still looked polished and sweat bead free. Like she wasn’t running late that morning. LIKE HER FEET DIDN’T HURT IN THEM DAMN SHOES.
I’m going to be a lady. I’m going to wear heels all the time, and only wear sweats to sleep. If I wear flats, they’ll be sandals, or be some sort of animal print, or have a bow on them. Dresses to the club always (holy shit, I’m going to be my mom). No baseball caps unless I’m at the baseball game. No more penis talk at the dinner table. No penis talk ever. Matter fact, no tits and ass talk either. I’ll dull my tongue, and wear lots of pink.
I want to be “that kind” of girl all the time. The kind that constantly updates her Facebook with an in-depth analysis on today’s political agenda and opinions on current events. The kind of girl that attends every protest, volunteers every Saturday, has read every book by Henry Miller, and knows what wine to drink with what meal. I want to be so engulfed by my job, that I don’t have time to feel like a ho. So sometimes, I want to be the “bad bitch” that uses men and is incapable of catching feelings. And sometimes I just want to be a plain old bitch, and not care that someone’s boyfriend is hitting on me, because motherfucker I haven’t gotten laid in months
But then I remember that “I can’t not be steezy”. I love hip-hop just as much as I love rock and roll. That I can’t live without my hoop earrings. Sweats are comfy as shit, and wearing heels all the time gives you corns. News 24-7 is depressing. I love the words “shit,” and “fuck”. And I really, really, love love. I remember that I hate being serious when I don’t need to be. That I’m a 5 year old at heart. That I rather be a Queen than a princess.
Then I think to myself fuck it, I’ll just be ME.