I can post a blog a day about my various firsts. We all have those stories..memories of things we've done that we never did again...and memories of things that would come to define us and be part of our personality.
First kiss? I think it was a cook at a restaurant where I worked. First rose? Some FUGLY ass looking Elder dude that knocked on my door and professed his love for me. I mean, for real...I could do a whole other post about how this dude looked like Steve Buscemi got hit in the face with a sledgehammer...and that was on a good day. I felt bad for him, but still...FUG.
First date? Perkins on Westbourne..I had country fried steak because I don't do salads. First slut moment? Going to the Homecoming dance with one dude and making out with another by the end of the night. We've all been there.
I think the first moment I want to write about is my first "side eye" moment. I remember it vividly. The look that would be my signature "fuck it" look. The look that lets people know to just stop right there...it's over for you. There are different types of side eye:
1) The "God you are boring me" side eye
2) The "Oh NO you Didn't" side eye
3) The "Bitch, Please, you ain't foolin no one" side eye
4) The "Good grief a part of my soul just died" side eye.
You might think that my first cynical look came in my teen years...especially since they occurred during the disenchanted "slacker" era of the 90s. No..I was well seasoned by then. My first side eye came at the tender age of five years old.
It was Christmas season. I was in Kindergarten and all I wanted for Christmas was my very own Bo Duke action figure. Them Dukes of Hazzard boys were HOT and even at five, I knew that you didn't have to be smart, as long as you looked good...and Bo Duke fit that bill. I was so excited to go back to school after break and when we were allowed to bring in one small thing, I'd bring in Bo Duke.
I still believed in Santa at the time and knew he wouldn't let me down. See..the year before I made a sacrifice and felt for sure that he would reward me this year. The previous year, I had wanted a Barbie mannequin head that you can put real makeup on. I asked my Mom for it and she said no because it was too messy. So, my sister told me NOT to ask Santa because if he brought it, Mom would be PISSED. There was no way that I was going to have him bring me that mannequin head if I was going to get an ass whoopin....so I didn't ask him for it. I thought that since I didn't get what I wanted last year, I'd get that beautiful blonde Duke Boy this year.
So, Christmas Morning...1982. We are in our house on Vine St in Avondale. (some people tried to play it off that our house was in St. Bernard, but I keeps it real...we were on the Avondale side of the line.) My older brother and sister were tearing through their gifts. My older brother opened a small package...LUKE DUKE doll. EXCITING!!! My older sister opened her gift... DAISY DUKE. I remember her talking about her hair. I go to open mine...for sure I got Bo.
Imagine my distain when I open my package and was staring a fucking BOSS HOGG doll. Talk about the birth of a side eye. I threw a look that I knew was the beginning of an era. How the hell Santa gonna play me like that? What in the hell was a five year old gonna do with a Boss Hogg doll? Can't a bitch even get an Uncle Jesse or Rosco or something? I gotta be stuck with Boss Hogg and his cheesy white suit? That was a damn shame. There was no way I was going to walk into Kindergarten and bring Boss Hogg. I'd be laughed at more than the girl who had to have her picture retaken because hers came out with a huge snot bubble on her nose. I was NOT going to be pitied more than snotgirl.
I don't remember anything else about that Christmas. At first I thought, "Okay...I guess I can do something with it...maybe he can be Barbie's grandpa," but even that shit didn't work out. He was smaller than Skipper and his suit freaked me out.
So, that was the year Santa got the inaugural "Oh no you DIDN'T" side eye. I pretty much didn't count on him too much after that. Fucker.