Society Tuesday

Check. Yay! Society Tuesday. We are the Tuesdays. And I've had that Boomtown Rats song in my head every since we chose it. You know the one about the robot housekeeper who shorts out and kills her family? Right. That one. At least, I think that's what it's about.

So yesterday, Madi and I are on our way out of the lobby when who should arrive but H.B. herself.
"Hey. Where are you guys going?" She asks, eyeing Madi's board with what might have been lust.
"Fair park. Awesome tricking out there if you can get past the guards." Madi has no sense of discretion. I was on crutches with my camera bag on my back so it was fairly obvious what my goal was.
"I've never skated boarded before. Is it fun?" She actually says it like it's two words.
"First off," I say - perhaps a little snarkily, "it's not skateboarding. It's skating." I smile. "Of course it's fun."
"Do you think it's the same principle as surfing?"
"Of course it is. The first great skaters were actually surfers. The kids out of Dogtown. There's a great documentary you should watch." And then I caved. We all saw it coming. As the words were coming out of my mouth two things happened. First, Madi looked positively rapturous and second I was instantly regretting them. Yet still they came. "My board is upstairs and I'm obviously not going to use it. Let's go up and get it and you can come with us."

Bam. Damage done. On the plus side, though, Mackenzie is really cool and I think I made a new friend. I know I took some really great shots - her form is totally wicked.

We ended up spending most of the morning out there and then came back up to my apartment for lunch...where we found Every Single Toilet had been ripped out and was in the process of being replaced with "dual flush" toilets. You know the kind: push button A for Number One and button B for Number Two. I'm not averse to it...I just wish she'd done one toilet at a time because three girls who've been outside chugging water all morning found themselves headed back down to the lobby...

In the elevator on the ride up, Mackenzie speaks up.
"Pam, what does your mom do?" I can't wait until she gets to call me Lala. But not until Bec, Madi, and I are all properly initiated.
"Yoga instructor."
"Yeah? Cool." She pauses. Madi looks at me and cocks an eyebrow. I pretend not to notice. And then Mackenzie asks: "What else does she do?" I cock my head at her. She continues: "Yoga students don't generally pay in cash." What I was so accustomed to seeing that I failed to notice she had noticed straight off.
"They do if they're having a private lesson in their home." Not, technically, a lie. And no - my mom isn't a prostitute. She doesn't do anything that would prove unfaithful to my father. Trust me - they're too in love for that sort of thing. It's nauseating sometimes.
"Ah. What does your father do?"
"Freelance photo journalist. He also has a blog for the Observer of which the primary focus is the every day life in downtown. I'll email you the link. It's pretty cool."
"I second that. Her dad gets some amazing shots. It's like he's the town's social archivist and he takes it very seriously. All of the photos in Pam's room - and mine and Bec's come to think of it - he took or Pam took." Madi held the elevator door so it wouldn't close on me. Then she skipped ahead and opened the apartment door.
"Aren't you a photographer?" Mackenzie asked Madi this and as I passed I gave Madi a look of gratitude for changing the subject.
"I have the knowledge, yes. But I much prefer the computer side of the images - manipulation and editing. I can do anything that needs doing to a photograph. So I let Pam get the great shots and when needed for legitimate publishing like the yearbook or the paper I leave them alone. She's got a great eye and can crop in camera in a way that you wouldn't believe. She can also reliably edit her own photos. But every now and again I take a session and jack it up in the most psychedelic ways. She's got a collage in her room I'll show you. Lots of before and afters. I think I made us all robots...?" I nodded affirmation and then stopped short. Stopping short on crutches is never recommended, but then I didn't expect Cecily to be draped over our couch like Daisy Buchanan in August.

"Hi, ladies. Want to watch a movie?" So we did. And I'll tell you all about it later, as it is now time for more pain medication and physical therapy.

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