Sprinkles Story..Part 1

I wish you knew us.  I wish you knew these amazing, raw, unapologetic, stunning people that I am lucky enough to call my friends.  These people that I have known since I was a little kid with chubby cheeks and heavy bangs.  People that have been there through elementary school birthday parties and junior high zits and high school awkwardness.  People that have been there through college papers and exams and heartaches.  People that are a little off-color, a little rough around the edges, but people that are so fantastically wonderful that if they weren't around the earth would certainly be flat.  I wish you knew us.

2004.  Senior year of high school.  Just old enough to think we're the shit, just young enough to realize that we have to work our asses off to make other people believe it.  Our last months of Abington Senior High School were drawing to a close and we were all hopped up on Clove cigarettes and gas money from our part time jobs.  It was time to take advantage of the fact that we lived on the border of Philadelphia.  It was time to whore ourselves up and go clubbing.

Enter Operation Shampoo Night Club.

"What the hell do you wear to a club?" I asked Claudia, cradling the phone between my shoulder and chin (which was slightly plumped up thanks to my first experience with birth control pills because I was determined that THIS  was the year to lose my virginity).  I slid the hangers in my closet from left to right, pulling out all my discount shirts from Old Navy and Aeropastle and throwing them on the floor in disgust.

"Shit, I don't know, a skirt I guess?" Claud answered and I could hear the faint sounds of her going through her own closet.

"I'm fairly positive I don't have a damn thing that would work." What is it about being seventeen that makes you feel the need to insert a curse word in every sentence?

"Shopping trip?"

I sighed.  "I guess."  I hated shopping.  Going in a poorly lit dressing room full of mirrors only resulted in tears and self-deprecation and plans for your next crash diet.

"I'll pick you up in an hour."

As we drove to the mall in Claud's noisy red pickup truck, we created a game plan.  Skirts and a tank top, nothing too spectacular but we would be sure to get everything in one size too small.  She had the boobs and I had the ass so we had to show them off accordingly.

"Ready?" Claud called from the next dressing room over.

"Ready."

We swung our doors open and stepped out to show each other our final outfit choices.  We were both wearing identical black skirts and pink spaghetti strap shirts.

We looked each other up and down.

"Crap." Claudia sighed.

I looked at my watch.  "Whatever, we don't have time.  We gotta go home and shower up for tonight."

A couple hours later I was putting the final touches on my make-up and hair.  

Clubbing Rule #1:  Always wear your hair down and always douse yourself in sparkly eye shadow.

I heard a knock on my door and shouted "Come in!"

I heard Claud walk in and up the stairs.  She was dressed in heavy sweatpants and a hoodie.

"I had to wear this over my outfit so my mom wouldn't flip." she explained.

I nodded and clipped on my little horseshoe necklace I had just bought.

"Ready.  Let's go."

I threw on the same coverup outfit as Claud and we walked past my mom and out of the house before Mommy Dearest could ask any questions.

Once outside, I saw our friends Ali and Carol climb out of the truck with the same get up as us.  Together, we all stripped from our sweats and stood there looking at each other, everyone one of us in a black skirt and pink top.

"Well at least we won't be hard to lose." Ali pointed out.

We headed down I-95, the Philly skyline directing us in the direction of 7th and Callowhill where our destination waited for us.  We laughed nervously on the way there, all of us not admitting that we were slightly apprehensive for what was in store.

Once there and once we found a spot on the street big enough to fit the truck, we piled out and hiked up our skirts and pulled down our tops.  We got our ID's ready and strolled into Shampoo like we had done this a thousand times.

Shampoo looked like an old factory building turned into a mecca of cheap drinks and house music.  Walking up you could feel the concrete vibrating beneath your feet as techno versions of Nelly and Britney Spears pulsed through the walls.  Once inside and once through the frisking for drugs and weapons line, we were hit with strobe lights and sweaty South Philadelphians pressed up against each other like a can of drunk sardines.

Clubbing Rule #2: Always stick together and dance in a circle facing each other.  That way, if a creepy guy comes up behind you, your friends can give you the appropriate eye signal to push him away.  Or to act like your friend is your lesbian lover.

We danced, we grinded, we flirted with the cute guys and rejected the questionable ones.  We left the club at 2 AM, sweaty and thrilled.

One by one Claud dropped us off at our houses.  As she pulled up to mine I flicked my Clove out the window and grabbed my purse.

"Not bad." I said, putting up the window and reaching for the door.

Claud shook her head.  "Not bad at all."

I climbed out of the truck and strolled into my house, feeling accomplished.  I walked up the stairs, stripping off my clothes with each step and heading for the bathroom.

Clubbing Rule #3:  Once home, shower immediately.