BSC in NYC!
Daer Ashley,
Oh my Lurd! Yoo our nefer going too baliv wut I did! I haf a chilly noo look! Yoo well bee sow saprized wen yoo see me! I mett a guy frum Awstayleea. He wus relly meen too me. He thut I was dume! Who rood!
Yore freind,
Claudia
P.S. NYS is grate!
Stacey and I were on the subway headed to Times Square. I wanted to get a piercing and she was going to look for a chilly new outfit to wear to a new club opening on Friday night."I have to look at least twenty-one," she told me as she rummaged through her pink heart-printed Dooney and Bourke purse. "I won't think that will be a problem, though."
I was surprised when she pulled out a slim white cigarette and a small box of matches. "You smoke?"
"Just started, actually." Stacey put the tip in her mouth and struck a match. "Carrie smokes and she is so dibble. I want to be just like her."
"She gave you cigarettes?" I asked in disbelief.
"Not exactly. I stole some from her purse when she was using the bathroom at my dad's place." Stacey took a long drag and immediately began coughing. "Guess I'll have to get used to these," she said sheepishly once her coughing attack had stopped.
"You better not let Dawn see you with those," I warned.
"Tell me about it!" Stacey rolled her eyes. "First she would tell me how I was polluting the planet, then she'd go into a rant of how smoking is bad for you and yada, yada, yada."
"Well, it IS bad for you," I replied.
"So is eating junk food. "Stacey raised an eyebrow at me and I crossed my arms and slumped against the seat.
Once we were in Times Square, I started looking for a piercing place. I had noticed a few of them when we were here Monday night. Finally I saw one called Ink and Holes.
"I'm going to go there," I told Stacey pointing to the shop.
"Okay." Stacey took another drag. She didn't hack up a lung this time. "I'm going to look around some shops. I'll meet you in there later."
I walked across the street, getting long looks from passer-bys. I guess they were just admiring my outfit. I was looking very chilly dressed in day-glo orange parachute pants and an orange vest with black trim. I had my hair tied back with an orange scrunchie. On my feet were orange rubber boots. Get it? I was an orange traffic cone! I was inspired to create this outfit after having seen a few of them since I had been in the city. Pretty clever, huh?
I opened the door to the shop. A guy in his twenties was behind a counter, reading a comic book, his elbows propped up on the glass surface. He had a shaved head and on his left bicep was a tattoo of snakes entwining a gothic looking cross. I counted at least six piercings on his face. He looked super chilly.
He looked up at me when the bell rang as I opened the door. He seemed to do a double take. "Can I help you?"
He sounded just like the Hobarts, a foreign family we sit for.
"Are you from Austria?" I asked.
He gave me a funny look. "No….Australia."
Australia! And here I was thinking there was actually a country called Austria! How embarrassing!
"Do you know Ben Hobart?" (Ben is Mallory's "sort-of" boyfriend).
"Um…no. Should I?"
"He's my friend's boyfriend. He's from Australia too."
"Cool. Where from?"
"Um, I can't remember the town's name, but I know he lived near the beach."
The guy stared at me. Geeze, he was from Australia, not me! He should know what part of the country I was talking about!
"I don't think he lived by the border," I offered helpfully.
"Border?" he asked, thoroughly confused for some reason.
"Yeah, you know by the mountains…the Alps?"
"Alps?"
I looked at his nametag. "Wow, Brain, someone needs to take geography again."
"Did you just call me Brain?"
"That's what it says on your nametag."
"Uh, that would be Brian. Are you dyslexic or just plain dumb? I'm thinking the latter," he muttered.
"That's no way to treat a customer. I want to get a piercing," I announced.
He narrowed his eyes at me. "How old are you?"
"Sixteen," I lied.
"You need a parent's permission if you're under eighteen. Sorry."
I was already prepared though. Last night I had written a note and forged my parent's signature. "Not a problem," I said as I handed him the note. His eyes scanned over it:
Deer Peersing Purseon,
Pleeze let are dotter get a peercing neware she whants. We haf given purmishun.
Claudias' mom and dad.
"Are you kidding me?"
I heard the bell ring and Stacey entered. She was holding of couple of shopping bags. "Hey, Claud! Did you get a piercing yet?"
"No." I glared at Brian. "He won't let me because I need permission and I guess the note that I wrote - uh, I mean that my parents wrote isn't enough."
"Bummer." Stacey looked around at the photographs of pierced noses, lips, tongues, eyebrows, and other body parts I wasn't sure of. "I'd love to get a navel piercing. Wouldn't that be totally dibble, Claud?"
"Do you have a note too?" Brian asked.
"No, but I can call my dad right now." Stacey pulled her cell phone from her purse and speed-dialed her dad at his office. "Hi, Daddy!" she said sweetly. "I was wondering if I could get a piercing….on my navel…it will be really small, I promise, Daddy…..oh, thank you, Daddy!"
Well, this was just great. Stacey was getting a totally dibble piercing, but I was still the same. Needless to say I was disappointed when we left. "(Your people make great chocolate!" I had called to Brian as we left the shop). Stacey had tied her shirt up so her newly red navel was showing. She had chosen a heart shaped ornament.
"Hey! Maybe I can do something funky with my hair!" I exclaimed as we passed a salon with posters of models with colorful and crazy looking hair dos. "I don't need my parent's permission to cut my hair!"
"Let's go in," Stacey suggested.
We entered the shop. Green Day was playing in the background as I signed my name on the waiting list.
"It will be about a forty-five minute wait," a woman with a black and white striped mullet told me.
As we waited, I grabbed a magazine full of hairstyles and flipped through it. "Oh my Lord!" I exclaimed after a few minutes. "Stacey, this is it! This is how I want my hair styled!"
Stacey looked at the page. "Claud, I don't know. That's pretty extreme. Are you sure that's what you want?"
I nodded. "There's no doubt in my mind. This is exactly what I've been looking for to change my look."
"Well, you'll definitely get noticed with that hair style!" Stacey exclaimed.
"Claudia?" someone called my name.
I stood up. "That's me." I brought over the magazine to a woman with an aqua blue pixie cut. "I'd like my hair to be styled like this if it's possible."
"Well, you're certainly adventurous!" she said with a laugh. "But I can do that, it will be no problem."
"Great!"
An hour later I was looking into the mirror at the new Claudia Kishi. My long, black hair had been replaced by a three foot tall mohawk that was hot pink on the top and silver on the bottom. I grinned at my reflection. I looked totally dibble.