Rose of No Man's Land by Michelle Tea

Author:Michelle Tea [Tea, Michelle]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781596929722
Publisher: M P Publishing Limited
Published: 2005-08-14T22:00:00+00:00

Nineteen

At the bus stop bench across the street from Spritzie’s Spa I sat in the fading light and waited for Rose. The bus stop was a wooden bench with splinters so thick they poked through even the very nice, very thick material of my best sweats, harpooning me in the ass. Everytime I shifted I had to stand and pull a tiny wooden spear from my butt cheek. I wondered if I could get tetanus from bus stop splinters. Figured Ma would know and then decided to forget it. It would only result in Ma somehow having tetanus. I was a little embarrassed to be so early, so eager. I concentrated on looking aloof, like a loner, lost in my own deep thoughts. The world around me encouraged this by ignoring me completely. Man, what a difference it makes to not look like a giant girl. I know that any female is vulnerable to the occasional ass-flasher, but really, the amount of lousy shit I get when I walk around in Kristy’s clothes versus the relative peace and quiet when I scoot around clad in sweats is staggering. It’s like these dudes are programmed to scan for glitter or certain shades of pink, and as long as you’re wearing a trusty pair of sweats and some gender-ambiguous flops you don’t trip their radar. I leaned back against the bench, where a large ad for a real estate agent was plastered. Someone had carved Bitch across the woman’s forehead. The carving went through the plasticky ad and into the wood behind it, deep and precise, and I thought it probably took the person quite a while to complete. It took some time, a good tool, and strong hands. And a hatred for real estate agents. I ran my fingers in the grooves. A couple of little kids trotted by, their clothes deliberately swimming on them, huge pants hung low and baggy, netted sports shirts. They kept walking ’til they were out of sight. I spaced out at the blur of cars zooming by on Main Street, the bits of radio tossed from their cranked-down windows and evaporating at the curb. Then there was Rose across the street, coming out of Spritzie’s. She looked like some lost street kid who had wandered out of the house in her pajamas. The dress she wore was shapeless and gauzy and the palest blue. It looked like one of Ma’s more ragged, throwaway nighties. I watched through the strands of bang draped across my eyeballs. It for sure was her, that same weird strut, like a mean chicken. She wandered back into Spritzie’s and then wandered back out. A little electronic beep echoed in the humid street as she passed in and out of the shop. Rose! I hollered. I gave a wave from my bench, flopped my hair out of my face. She squinted and leaned forward and then trotted toward me.

Wow, man, you look totally different. She stood with her hands on her hips and stared at me.

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