My name is Elizabeth Carter. I go by Bette because my mom has a fascination with Bette Midler. It’s kind of grandma-ish but it’s different so I like it. (Please don’t tell my mom I said that! In fact, don’t tell my mom that anything makes me happy.) I’m in a place right now, after 17 years of watching this woman try to live out one fairy tale after another, where I want to be a surly teenager. For one more year at least, maybe more.
My goal in life is to move out of my mother’s house. Well, it’s not her house- it’s just the house of her latest husband. See my mom is a chameleon and changes to please her man. Of course, that doesn’t last because eventually she gets bored of her new persona and goes back to being plain ole’ Marie. Then starts looking for the next man! I vow to never be like her. I will never be anyone other than myself and will not let my life revolve around someone else. Anyone else. No matter what! (Ri-ight…)
So here I sit in suburbia, dreaming of the emerging punk scene and dreaming of my exit strategy. I am about to start a new high school, where to my utter amazement, I discover a group of friends like me. Not that I’m not unique, don’t get me wrong. I have a box of Manic Panic hair color in my closet just to prove how totally different I am. (LOL) I change my hair color to match my mood. I know how to do this, because I am in a program that allows me to go to beauty school, while still attending high school. See I’m smart, that is how I will make my escape!
My new group of friends tells me about a nightclub that will be opening soon in Chicago; it’s called The Madhouse. It’s a dance club for young adults, finally somewhere for us to hang out and be ourselves! The problem is you have to be 18 to get in, and I’m only 17! This is how my life usually goes. I am drawn to the city with all its bright neon and cool indigenous people. I long to be a part of it. Kristen, my new bud, who is the coolest of the cool, lends me one of her many fake ID’s so I can go to the club! As luck would have it, Kristen’s family is rich and she takes many vacations where she amuses herself with finding people’s lost identification. Hurray for Kristen! Kristen’s only problem is that she drinks like a fish, and I’m not talking about milk. She always has a silver flask on hand, and unfortunately she uses it often. I’m not a prude or anything. I just don’t see the point in drinking. I don’t like to feel out of control.
The Madhouse is so amazing! Really off the charts, unlike anything I’ve ever seen. I am amazed at all the people who look like me, I mean, aren’t I an original? I bet they all think they are original too. But here we are, all looking the same and dancing our hearts out to music imported from exotic lands. Ok, so England is not that exotic, but in the 1980’s it seems as though everything new is happening over there. I’ve browsed through dozens of hair magazines looking at the amazingly colorful and unruly hairstyles they are creating. This new cable station called MTV is also showing us how to look amazingly different from other teenagers in America.
I’m in a voyeuristic heaven and I see the most beautiful guy walk in! Wow, I mean HELLO young god. He’s amazing to watch. He has a girlfriend, or so my pal Kristen informs me when she catches me watching him with my mouth agape. (Yeah, I was staring) Of course the girlfriend is gorgeous. Looks like a pixie, all the things that I am not. Petite, long flowing hair, and exceptionally hip. I leave the dance floor in utter gawkiness to go scope the scene on the upper floor. After peeking in the different rooms and orientating myself to the floor plan, I settle down in a room full of TVs to watch some music videos. Out of the corner of my eye, I catch the god and the pixie fighting. Well, not really fighting. She’s begging, or so it looks and he’s ignoring her. I try hard not to watch, but can’t really help myself. Unfortunately for me, I’m busted. When she finally gives up her quest for… whatever, I find myself in a conversation with Mr. God, and I’m amazed at how he makes me feel. A bold new woman emerges from inside my head and actually holds her own. (I hope she’s sticking around). Much to my chagrin, two of my friends come to find me right in the middle of my profundity and drag me away from my new, well I don’t want to say love, because that would be too much like my mother!
Will I ever see him again? I wonder.....
No comments:
Post a Comment