The Building Blocks of Culture
Culture is defined as the customs, arts, social institutions, and achievements of a particular nation, people, or social group. Culture is not one thing, but instead an end product, it’s the result…
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How to be Homeless for 42 Days
Day 5
TINK MISSED CALL 8:04 PM
TINK MISSED CALL 8:05 PM
TINK MISSED CALL 8:06 PM
TINK MISSED CALL 8:06 PM
TINK MISSED CALL 8:07 PM
Our laughter was interrupted by a slight buzz from inside my leather messenger bag the color of sunshine.
“I’m sorry, Luke. I need to take this.”
“Okay, beautiful.”
Ocean waves couldn’t hold a candle to his eyes; they were intentional with their glances, yet gentle, with an absolute stillness. They watched my fingers glide on the screen until I was connected to a frantic voice, also known as Tink.
“You need to get over here now. I know you’re on your date, but you’d be pissed if you were locked out too!!”
Speechless, I opened my mouth and then closed it again.
At a decibel the couple two booths over could hear, she continued to chew me like an old piece of gum. Feeling my cheeks flush from anger, I tried to avoid eye contact with my date.
Instantly embarrassed that now he is seeing this side of me, I made gestures that I would have to leave. After reiterating that I informed her ahead of time of this date, it felt as if I were talking to a brick wall. I consoled the blonde on the other line and told her I would be there shortly.
With a half smile that should have made me weak, he reached out for my hand. After he took care of the restaurant bill, we walked briskly back to his house. Sealing it with a kiss of remorse (not to be confused with morsel chocolate chips of sweet symphonies), I returned to my angry roommate.
After dialing my mother’s number venting to her “wee wee wee all the way home,” I unlocked the apartment door from the key I had made two days prior.
Tink rose from her slumped position next to the locked first-floor apartment door.
“I told you I should have made you a key,” I said plainly, avoiding eye contact.
“Steph I’m sorry but… Where’s bro? You would have been mad too. I bought all this food, and I wasn’t able to eat any of it! I went out to eat, which we know I couldn’t afford and I would have stayed somewhere else, but all my stuff was inside!”
The silence that hung in the air was enough to break her focus on my eye sockets because my green-light eyes avoided her face altogether.
“Yeah,” I stammered. “But both of Y’all knew that I had a date tonight. Why couldn’t Y’all have figured out who was going to be home and when?”
So annoyed that again, my needs came last. I fumed in the living room, pacing heavily. It’s not like I could yell at bro — it’s his house, and he can do what he wants with his time and his key.
Tink broke the silence with, “So…. how was the date?”
“I’m not certain there will be another.”
Shoving my arm, she coaxed, “Come on. Spill.”
A smile spread faster than creamy peanut butter on honey wheat toast before lunch. “He’s so sweet! Gahh! What am I doing? I’m moving!”
“I mean… I don’t know. I’m talking to Bobby, and he can’t wait to see me…”
*Happy girl dance*
“Okay, stop,” Tink said, playfully rolling her eyes.
Almost as if by command, my phone danced across the tired coffee table with a flash of Luke’s name.
“Oh, God,” she said rolling her eyes almost into the back of her skull.
2 hours later, bro returned home offering no explanation, which wasn’t necessarily warranted.
“Sup?”
“Sup?” We responded in almost unison. I was curious how long it would take her to call him out. One Mississippi, two —
“So, I guess Steph and I have to sketch out a schedule of which of us will be home first, huh?”
Chuckling he muttered, “Why didn’t you get a key?”
Her standard eye-rolling fell before her next sarcastic phrase. “What, some hot date you couldn’t reply to your snap?”
“Ehh, not too hot.”
“Oh my gosh,” I cackled and left the room. Enough roommate interaction for one day…
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