The Passenger

So I was in the passenger seat of Jenny’s car on our way to Trax. I was being constantly annoyed by her and her friends. Her pretentious attitude was becoming more and more apparent. I was just hoping she wouldn’t embarrass me. At least I picked out my clothes that day, which consisted of a black turtleneck, jeans, my oxfords, and my new pea coat. At least I had that going for me. In the car she had Depeche Mode blasting and she and her friends were singing along. I felt like such an outcast.

“David, like why are you not taking Jenny’s advice?” Charlotte asked.

“He’s being an idiot.” Jenny interrupted before I could answer.

“No. I’m not being an idiot. There are some things I can actually do on my own.” I said.

“But why? If you wanna be a cool New Waver you gotta listen to us.” April said in her whiny voice.

April was about as big of an airhead as you could be. Let me rephrase that, an airhead with badly teased out hair. These girls acted like they were the shit. Unfortunately at the time, I was too reluctant to let go of Jenny because I kept holding onto a memory of us that no longer existed. Among her friends, I was just something you dragged along. We got to Trax and I noticed that African American gutter punk, Chicago sitting on the sidewalk outside. I noticed that the girls seemed wigged out by him. I can hear them telling each other to be careful ‘He’s a nutjob.”

“Hey cracker, Go make me a sandwich!” Chicago said smiling crazily.

“David, don’t go near him!” April foolishly said out loud as we were walking toward the door.

“Don’t go NEAR me she says. Ain’t that the shit? Cinderella lookin’ bitch.” He said mumbling.

I just laughed to myself as we walked in the door at Trax.

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