Laurels Literary Magazine Fall 2014 | Page 24

Lately Gabriella Flournoy Lately, I’ve been having a bad feeling about my perceived “nice-ness”; I’m not sure if that’s a word but it’s true. I need to feel nice. I want to feel nice. Bad. The past decade has been spent polishing my back-talk, sassiness and crap-shooting. I have become proud of it even. I have a way with disrespect. But I’ve had this feeling for the past couple of months, a sneaking suspicion that the evolution of my psyche is shedding a new light on who I believe I am. I think my self-perception is molting once again, ‘once again’ because this isn’t the first time I’ve felt this way. I remember around the time I graduated high school, the totally conscious realization that I didn’t know everything. I remember thinking that; I remember thinking I knew everything. And then I didn’t. Suddenly things became a lot more interesting. I had something to learn. I am realizing now that I am not as nice as I thought I was. It doesn’t just happen; you have to actively want it and give it. You have to consciously give good will. This is gonna be a hard couple decades acclimating. “I don’t want to seem presumptuous, but I think you’re effing crazy.” That’s what I thought for the first three months. I think that’s just how friendship works. Shannon does not apologize. She makes me laugh until I pee my pants. She is the Queen of Darkness. She is the Japanese schoolgirl of your dreams. She will give you a dose of your own, worst medicine. I learned most of this from working with her for several years, in customer service. I have learned you can learn a lot about someone based on their style of handling the ‘general public.’ Shannon had a no-holds-bar style that employed the eye-roll, the loud exhale, and the general disgust that I could never commit to. I always felt too bad about it. Shannon made you feel vindicated, she was the girl giving it back to these old ninnies, telling us about how much they donate and how much we owe them. Shannon handled it the worst. She was “too old for this” and “she didn’t need it anymore.” I was long gone by the time she finally left. Our friendship never even really blossomed until we were both rid of the place. She had a way of dealing with people that I never could quite understand. She would ask a question as if it was an accusation, always: “You want to eat a hamburger?” Face screwed-up and her inflection making the –urger sound spatted-out. Shannon doesn’t need to feel nice. I need to feel nice. The best times I’ve ever had with Shannon have involved sex, drugs and rock ‘n’ roll. Literally. Cocaine off guitar picks, boys from California and the tour bus. We’ve been there. Shannon is an uppers girl. Living for the thrills of blow. I can’t stand the stuff. I sit backstage puffing away with the old roadies while Shannon puts a weeks worth of money up her nose: provided by the band. This side of her is manic. This side of her is demanding 22