You are currently reading from the Trials and Tribulations of a Crazy Asian Series
I made friends my second year of high school. I think it was because I beat up Christina Finelli for telling me the only reason I was in America was because my “real parents” didn’t want me. I jumped on her as she was getting off the bus and bashed her head into the concrete sidewalk. It took three nuns to pull me off her and I was suspended for two weeks. Either that or the fact that I was addicted to cocaine and no longer fifty pounds overweight…but let’s not split hairs.
I found myself in a group of four – Samantha was our leader, Laura our “Karen“, Madison was our nerd and then there was me…just a little bit of everything. We used to go to the mall on Friday nights – flirting with Chaminade boys, sneaking into movies and milling around the food court trying to decide what to eat. Ah, such simpler times they were…
We also hung out at the mall because my cousin Christopher worked at Journey’s and one of my favorite past-times was to annoy the shit out of him. He didn’t mind though – he would talk to Sam about movies and music and I would try on all the graphic t-shirts I could get my hands on while Madison educated me on how much it cost to make such a shirt.
Then, one Friday, something was different. It wasn’t the fact that my girls and I had dressed as our respective stereotypes (me in my Catholic school girl uniform, Sam all goth-ed out, and Madison as nerdy as ever)…it also wasn’t that the mall was closing as we made our way to Journey’s. It was the tall, and extremely slim, guy with baggy black pants and chains along the sides pulling down the gate.
“Who is that green-haired dude?” Madison asked.
“Don’t know…but I’m about to find out…”