Column XV: House Situations

When Sarah went to go check in on Cleo, she forced me to stay at the party. 

A party…

Since the times of the Romans, we have sat together in closed groups to drink, smoke, and eventually leave the gathering with a hot horny person. In modern times, a function is not spread by word of mouth, the newspaper, or a simple party flyer around the city. Without Instagram, Facebook, or X, you can be closed off to the partying scene. The simple fact is that we are all obsessed with the digital, in this Age of Aquarius.

The tall doll ignored the group of boys around us and asked me, “girl, what is your instagram.” She launched her pink phone into my hand.

“I don’t even know your name yet, lol.”

“Sorry love. I am Gia.” She replied as I typed my instagram username. I pulled out my phone to follow her back and saw she has 20k followers. Among the followers, she was followed by about 200 people that I admired. Gia’s instagram feed showcased all her curves along with her activism, the best one being a picnic for all the black dolls in the city to raise money for girls in need. I handed over her phone back; she immediately smiled and put her hand over her chest. “So beautiful, you will have a gorg future, my love-”

“Hi again! I asked you what your name is,” David interrupted the conversation, putting himself in front of me and Gia. The room shaking with punk beats now, Gia snapped her neck before she took a glance of herself in her front camera.

“Baby, are you okay? Do you know this boy?” Gia asked, reaching out for my hand. A sudden vibration took over my body. In the warm room, a frigidness possessed me like the undead. I made faces at my phone, then David, Gia, and the friends accompanying him. Rocki, one really tall boy with black roots and blonde locs, stood behind David rocking his head, taking small puffs of a joint. 

“It’s okay, Gia. I kinda know him.”

“Okay, let me know if you need anything! I’ll be around, watching…” Gia pierced her eyes into David’s as she joyfully skipped to the dance floor.

“We matched on hinge, right? I think your name started with a S or maybe a L.” David moved closer to get a detailed look of my face. 

“Yes, I think so. I am Sloane. And you?”

“Come on! I know you know my name, I am David. DJ David.” He crossed his arms as he leaned back on cracked and alcohol-stained walls of the old Bushwick apartment. I crushed my teeth on each other, moving my eyes up and down his tall body, getting stuck at his obnoxious print in his grey sweaty pants. 

“Oh okay, DJ David, cool set,” I said, rolling my eyes and turning my shoulder to him. His friends point and chuckle at him. 

Throughout time, men thought that their cocky, ambitious, and well placed pick up lines could avoid the reeking dissatisfaction of the world around them. David, like most boys, saw it as a rite of passage to rob girls of their innocence and become notorious around other boys as a ladies’ man, player, or pimp. These indirect directions kept all of them trapped and seeking situations of validation. In a world where everyone wants to be loved, we are playing a stupid game of masked monopoly or charades. Lust begins the simple transaction for love instead of genuine curiosity. 

“Whatever. Have fun I guess,” David moved from the wall and made his way back to the booth, all his friends followed besides one.

“Don’t worry about him. He just thinks he runs New York. But it’s more like New York runs him through the streets.”

“No kidding!” Me and Rocki shared a laugh. Through the unpaced movements of his head, I saw diamond studs all along his ear, and cross tattoo underneath it.

“I don’t know if it’s too hot in here or the speakers are blowing out my ears but do you want to chat outside?”

“Sure.”

Rocki led me through the sauna induced crowd, protecting me from all the lonely boys moshing in the center, and the girls watching to see who gets punched first. The crowd became a little tight, Rocki grabbed my wrist, dragging me. He didn’t realize how strong he was because I felt my feet gliding like a magic carpet.  

Once outside, I searched, in my spot, for Cleo and Sarah and seemingly they had left. My body loosened due to the winds of 4am NYC. The streets will be scattered with people but not cramped together like a crowded bus. I closed my eyes for a second, imagining my life a few weeks ago. The clear dark sky and the bright street lights illuminated a heaven that I dreamed of since a child. This summer opened my personal gates to the new realities of human life and further newfound girlhood. How privileged yet so disadvantaged a young woman’s journey could be.

On those stairs, Rocki lit another joint from his black fanny pack. My eyes got lost in the sparkles of his earrings that made sunshine rise from his dark brown eyes. He let his sun rays dance from his eyes into mine. The tall boy took a hit of smoke, handed me the joint. Together, we walked down Wyckoff; engulfed by a half full moon.