Friday Night I'm Going Nowhere

As much as I talk about getting old, and dreading it, there are times when I’m so glad that I’m not a teenager anymore.

Like tonight. I went to the mall. It was all teenagers, girls who must spend hours on their hair, their makeup, their fake orange tans. They travel in packs, carrying their tiny purses, and within each pack you just know that there’s a hierarchy of popularity . . . the cool girls, who do all the talking and decide what is interesting, and the girls who just go along because they feel like they have to.

Tonight I was wearing jeans and a hand-me-down hooded sweatshirt. This morning I just threw my wet hair up into a ponytail, so it was all kinky tonight when I took it down. I left it. I’m not going to go through another shower just to go to the mall. No makeup, no jewelry, comfortable shoes. No girl-pack full of relationship dramas to negotiate. Thank God.

I went to Borders then, to read Anne Tyler’s new book, and Joy showed up. She was wearing a hooded sweatshirt and jeans, and she’d just come from work. I was surprised to see her, and happy, and we sat there and talked until the store closed.

We briefly discussed going out, but we were all exhausted. And wearing hoodies.

Sometimes, we do still care.