Conversations That Don’t Fit

by LaShay Trevillion

At thirteen, I had an epiphany and realized: Every public facility was disastrous. Public beaches, public parks, public housing even public libraries. They all collaborated in providing me with the most horrifying experiences. At the age of ten, the beach gave me the pleasure of seeing eighty-five year-old men wearing underwear that was just about my size, at that time. The park had forced me to sprain my angle before planned, while running from the neighborhood friendly dog, Speedy Spark. Public housing made me feel like my house was a home. Well, in that case, it made me feel my apartment was an…apartment, now that I actually think about it. In the apartment above me, I could hear the tiny stomping of what sounded like a parade of babies and underneath me, I felt the vibrations from the loudly murmured television set that old Wilma had since the birth of Christ. Last but not least, Libraries always had a way of putting me in the spotlight, whether it was a shelf of books falling on my head or the librarian calling me by my last name: Manly. “Ms. Manly” she would yell across the library. Enough was enough and so I promised myself, in public places I would get the last laugh, I wouldn’t be the source of entertainment. That was nearly five years ago. So today as a freshman in college, I have encountered the most bizarre conversations in a variation of new public domains, And just as I promised, I’m not the source of entertainment…

H&M Fitting Room: In the fitting room I stood trying on my satin, navy blue dress that laced up along the back and revealed the tinniest portion of my chest. I bega n to turn different angles to see my beauty from all perspectives, meanwhile I overheard two high school females talking about prom. They were envisioning a prom of endless fun, two times more fun than any dance they had ever attended, in previous years. I guess they had become more articulate then their mouths could handle. I decided to take a seat, after all it wasn’t like my mother cared if I deliver her medicine a tad bit later. I needed to see if the conversation between the two girls could be one to remember.

“Hey, I never noticed your eyes! Are those yours?” This voice was squeaky and a little high pitched. The voice of an annoying stepsister.

“Yes, my dad had a lot to do with it, my mother doesn’t approve of them though. She says now when people look into my eyes, they’re only seeing a lie.” This girl had the voice of a brat, like one of those spoiled teenagers that had the convenience of running to her father instead of the bank, to get cash.

“What? What does that mean?”

“I asked my father if, for prom, I could have purple eyes to match my dress. At first he was skeptical but I explained how I was my own person and how I wanted to be different. Then about three weeks later I got the surgery.”

“I didn’t know you could get someone else’s eyes? How did you find a match?”

“Well, my great, great, great grandma has purple eyes and so, when she asked me how she could help me with prom, I just asked her. Grandma can I borrow your eyes? She looked slightly dumbfounded but then I justified my reason. It’s the most important time of my life! It’s the only prom I have left to attend…. ever. Then a couple weeks later she just died. I guess a heart attack or maybe it was the brain tumor she had for the past ten years, who cares.”

“Wow, great story. It’s so inspiring! Maybe I should go ahead and ask my grandmother if I can have the portion I’m entitled to, in her will, a little early. But for prom as far as eyes, I’m going to just get eyelashes.”

“That’s cool. The glue gets crazy after you keep your eyes open longer then advised. Trust me. One time, I applied the glue and the package said keep eyes open no longer than six hours. So I had to leave the date I was on early, I called him later and explained my eyes were falling off. He didn’t notice though. We were at the movies and it was of course a scary movie. So I just clung to him and placed my head on his shoulder. He thought my eyes were closed because I was scared but really, if he would’ve seen my eyelashes when I opened my eyes… That would’ve been the scariest part of the night.”

“That’s disturbing; remind me to hide my eyes at all times during scary movies. My eyelashes won’t be glued on though. I’m going to get them individually put on. Oh and I found the perfect ones! They’re human hair and I can flat iron them and make them straight or I can curl them when I need to.”

This is the point in which I realize the conversation isn’t going to progress into anything worth listening to, and I grab my purse and exit the fitting room.

Jack London Bathroom: While at the movies with a few dorm mates, I ran to the bathroom right when the movie was over to beat the crowd. The Hills Have Eyes part two: The Clouds Have Arms had just come out. It was intense, so in the bathroom, I expected to hear reviews.

Entering my stall, I noticed someone left the toilet seat up…? I ignored it and put the seat down. Confined in my own portable, I release myself. I remain to sit as I exhale. A breeze of relief has just swept past me. It’s the feeling we all get when we’ve been holding it for so long, then we finally get to the toilet and… “ahhhh” pee. Just as I began to grab the tissue I heard a symphony of female voices. Doors were being locked, toilets were being flushed and hills were clicking on the floor. Someone with black stiletto boots entered the urinal to my right. A short jean skirt by Abercrombie followed her juicy couture bag she placed at her feet. I tried to picture her face but had no idea where to start.

“Caroline” She called out. I’m guessed a friend of hers, maybe even her girlfriend. At that time in the world, you were weird if you were straight. You were called old fashioned if you still liked the opposite sex. Soon enough someone entered the urinal to my left. Electric green UGGS blinded me, as I looked at the UGG symbol, plastered everywhere on the boot. The latest Boyfriend Jeans by Victoria’s Secret had hit the floor.

“Yes, I’m in here.” Boots sayed.

“Thank God, I thought for a second…lol you know. Then I was like no, of course she wouldn’t.”

“Why would I? I’m not a man Jess.” By now, I’m seated on the toilet holding the four squares of tissue in my hand.

“You’re so lucky, I wish I had what you have. You could be a cheerleading, happy joy joy girl or you could be a kick ass skateboarder! You’re so talented.” I had then torn the tissue up in little bits. Like when you’re sitting somewhere and you get distracted from what you were initially doing. One time I had began doodling on my midterm because I had became lost thinking about if the last episode I seen of American Idol, was the most recent.

“I wouldn’t say that’s talent, that’s more like a disorder. I’m confused about myself, I have no identity. You know, when I was three I wanted to be a ballerina, but after my mom and dad divorced I thought my mother was telling me something. She had never told me anything, she just lead by example. So, since her marring her father was her dream and they divorced, I got the message: Dreams don’t last longer than two years. I would’ve started ballet classes at five but by seven it wouldn’t mean anything.”

“Maybe your mom wanted you to see that, two years is long enough to deal with a drunken, low life. I mean, think about it. What could he do for her she couldn’t do for herself?”

“Who knows? I think her and Rose will be together for longer than two years”

“I hope so. Then you’ll be able to follow your dreams.”

I throw the bits of tissue in the water and flush the toilet. While I’m drying my hands, I see a woman struggling with the tampon dispenser.

“Hey Caroline, or Jessica? Do you guys have a stick up?” Caroline replies.

“Sure.”

She then exited the portable and dug in her left boot and pulled out a Ziploc bag. Pads that were short and long, tampons that were super and regular filled the bag, and she handed the bag to the woman, just then, I threw my paper towel away and left the bathroom. Back in the lobby I told my friends about the conversation and the immediate reply I received was, “Yea right, I don’t believe you.” That was coming from my friend Brandy that lived more like a Randy.

Bank Line I had just returned from visiting my mother. The medicine I had taken her a few weeks earlier had been having her feeling weak so, every so often I would go over there and help her out with the house chores. Before going home I had realized, I had no money on me. I drove to the nearest bank, Bank of America.

“I can take the next person over here.” The teller yelled.

A man with a blonde beard and black hair that hugged his lower chin had totted over.

“Yes, umm…no. I just would like to make a deposit.” He slowly managed to get out.

“Alright. How much would you like to deposit?” the man stood there as if he had just gone death. The teller remained silent, waiting for the man’s response.

What is the minimum?” he asked seriously.

“Sir, there is no minimum, however much you want to.”

“Alright then. I want to deposit two dollars, and thirty- four cents.”

The woman looked confused. “Two dollars and thirty-five cents is the minimum amount you can deposit sir.”

I watched in the line as his face turned red and a look of horror attacked his face. He had turned around as if he was looking for someone to talk to, maybe a manager. He gave up and returned to the teller standing before him. “I just asked you, is there a limit? You said no. I want to speak with a manager!” the man rudely said.

“I’m sorry but the manager just went out for lunch she should be returning in about an hour if you want to wait.” The man grabbed his piggy bank filled with coins that was no bigger than his hand and abruptly left. But, not before shouting…. “I shall go to a bank where, pennies will be enough!”

It was then my turn to go to that teller, I walked up and as soon as I reached her she put the sign up, “Closed.” I had been in line for thirty minutes tops and I had just about enough. So, I stormed out the bank just as the previous unsatisfied customer had, left angry and broke.