Things are finally picking up.No. Seriously.
I'm not even JK this time.
Harriet Tubman (the new van that delivered us to freedom and yes I picked the name) is proving to be a lot more reliable than ol' Betsy Ross (may she rest in peace).
I decided that naming a big white van after a powerful and historical black woman was just the right balance of WTF and OMG to turn this tour around.
First came Connecticut. Now, I've never been to Connecticut, but I just imagined the entire place was full of WASPy posers who wanted to live in NY but just didn't have the balls to do it. Apparently, it's a little more backwoods than I thought. Am I generalizing the entire state based on the one village I visited in the middle of nowhere? Yes. Am I sticking to it? Double yes.
So we showed up to a Jr. High in the backwoods of the janky state of Connecticut to be greeted by a group of 8th grade boys who were SHOCKINGLY eager to help us unload our van and build the set. I don't ever remember a time in my life when I was excited to lift or build anything, but I assure that time was definitely not in 8th grade.
The best part of the experience was not the show. OH NO...the show was definitely not the gem of the day. The gem of the day was learning that nothing about Jr. High has changed. The hierarchies are still the same. There's the kid with the brains, the kid with the brawn, the kid who just wants to skip the math test for any reason and the nerdy Asian that sticks to the corner and says nothing.
...oh and the token black kid...but we didn't have one of those at my junior high. We had two token half-black kids though so...half plus half, right?
And lunch time was all about eating with the cool kids. And on this day WE WERE THE COOL KIDS! That's right, my dream of eating cafeteria lunch once again came true, and the 8th grade bros were all about making sure they got to stand in line with us.
Lunch. Was. Heaven. Buffalo chicken pizza. Milk in a carton. JELL-O! and ICE CREAM! All for less than $5. I never wanted to leave. And as we exited the kitchen and into the cafeteria we heard the roar of admiring pre-teens. They came from everywhere to shout out admiration and rip at our clothing, hoping to hold on to a piece of the magic they had just experienced (but maybe it was just hormones).
But as I turned back to retrieve a forgotten straw, we learned who the real celebrity was: Thomas Jefferson.
As I asked a teacher where I could find a straw, a young girl appeared out of nowhere with a huge grin on her face quickly offering to retrieve the straw for me. She disappeared into the masses and returned with a straw and even bigger grin (which I admit was starting to get creepy). I thanked her and we introduced ourselves...I'm pretty sure she thought I was Thomas Edison, but hey...it happens.
After we ate our lunch in the secluded theater for security purposes...safely away from the hormones...we chilled with our new 12 year old bros, took some group photos, bumped some fists and left for Harriet.
Then, just before I could climb into the van, I was summoned by the theatre teacher. The boys were going crazy and told me I had a fan club of girls waiting for me at the stage door. I was warned not to touch the girls by the teacher (as if my rainbow flag weren't tipping her off) but was asked if I minded saying hello.
OF COURSE I WOULD LET THEM SWOON OVER ME AND BASK IN MY CELEBRITY!
But out of the cast...why? Why me? Aside from my killer bone structure and wavy blonde hair mixed with a tall and lean physique...what did I have to offer these young girls?
Oh yeah...we like all the same things: Bieber, Britney and Boys.
I signed some autographs and took some photos and thought...this is just the beginning.
The beginning of having a very, very small target audience...
But the celebrity could only last so long and it was back on the road to South Carolina
where I'm sure my rainbow flag will not fly as freely unnoticed.
Sorry for breakin your hearts little girls.
Time to hide my Facebook,
TJB: Making It
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