Glitter glue. Jill needed glitter glue, "RIGHT NOW. OH MY GOD OR HER PUMPKIN WOULD NOT BE SPARKLY ENOUGH." I should have shoved another cupcake in her mouth and shut her up. Instead I went to CVS. To get glitter glue. Right now. This very minute.
CVS is in walking distance of the roughest set of apartments in the area. Now by rough, I mean suburban-I-wish-I-was-a-gansta-but-I-am-not-cause-I-am-a-white-boy-from-an-upper-middle-class-neighborhood kind of rough. Word. Ghetto G and Thug Boy (aka Cadence and Jackson or some other equally upper middle classish names) are in line behind me, and, Dawg, they is goin' to a fly Halloween party.
"Hey Homegirl. I got to ax you, which mask you think is scarier." Okay, so he didn't really call me homegirl, but shiiiiitttt he might as well have.
"Uhhh. The one you have one."
"Hahaha. You is funny." He has no mask on.
"Yes. I IS funny. I IS real funny. Sure IS." I turn back around. To most people this would signal the end of the conversation.
"Whatcho doin tonight baby?" Ghetto G purrs with a nod of his head.
"Look. Seriously? It is not cool to be ghetto. Pull up your damn pants. Talk like the white boy you are. Get a fucking clue. You in no way impress me. I don't want to be your babymama. I don't want to 'roll' with you."
Thug Boy collapses in hysterics. "Shit foo', she told you, you is stupid."
"ARE. ARE. ARE. ARRRRRREEEEE."
Thug Boy and Ghetto G exchange looks of extreme confusion. They now think I am a pirate.
"I don't get it," Thug Boy says.
"Look, I don't think you is stupid," I say with a smirk. Ghetto G looks relieved momentarily. "I think you ARE stupid." Ghetto G's face falls. Thug Boy doubles over laughing again.
"What the hell are you laughing at? You IS stupid too," I say then grab my glitter glue and stomp out.