Lilly: A Hard Skinned Porcupine Trying to Set Up Camp

"Can you say hi?... Can you say hi?"

A small, brunette three year old peaks her baby-faced head over the table to better look at the guest with her curious, deep blue eyes and purple flower barrette. Her white little P.J. shirt and purple floral pants suggest that her bedtime is fast approaching but her outgoing shyness looks up at me as she faintly replies and waves her little fingers,

"Haaahhhlllooo."

"Wanna sit over here?... Wanna sit up here baby?... Wanna say hi to Kayla?"

As Lilly "baby-talks" to her daughter and lifts her up, she looks up at me and answers my unspoken question.

"Her name is Aurora."

As the two stare back at me their sparse facial differences seem to scream out. Lilly's bright blond hair and green eyes contrast with her daughter's, while their two wardrobes paint similar stories of pastel and dark purples; complimenting both of their complexions. When Aurora finally settles down upon her mother's rather large breasts, Lilly starts back up with her normal voice.

"I'm very Irish, really German, I got some English in me too... I don't know if that's what you want to hear...? But anyhow... My dad was really big on going to Europe..."

Aurora starts to giggle as she squirms out from under her mother's arms and crawls beneath the dining table. I steal a glance down between my legs and find her blue eyes peering up questioningly at me. Aurora sets up camp on her belly as her mother spills her guts out.

"My dad left when I was about ten years old... He was never a really good dad. What happened was my parents got married very young..."

She turns her head as Aurora athletically crawls out from beneath the table and sprints awkwardly towards the carpeted stairs. Lilly then yells in her normal voice,

"She make it upstairs?!"

A male voice replies with a drawn out Yuuuupp and Lilly focuses back on her story.

"But yeah, like, he was an alright dad.. but I was the middle child and something happened between my mom and another guy when they were together, like when he went to Europe one of the times and so when he came home and she was pregnant... he never really found out for sure if I was the other guy's or my actual father’s daughter. So he always treated me like an outcast. You know.. I never really got that love and affection from, like, a father figure."

Her confident gaze falters as she looks to her left at the neat and cleanly living room, with it's two leather sofas and medium fireplace: emitting a welcoming scene. She zones out for a second or two, takes a deep breadth and then returns my eye contact once more.

"Cuz he'd like come home and I'd be doing something... I'd be reading.. um.. a text book one day.. it was, like... it was about like this thick and.. Sorry... trying to think... it was my mother's yearbook. And I was reading it and I was, like nine and it was past my bed time and he got all upset with me and he grabbed the book and through it at my head... I mean, RIGHT at my head. And you know I... I got used to being treated like that... like an outcast.. you know?.. and so now, today, I'm very tough, because of IT, towards men, you know?"

Lilly giggles faintly as she brings her ever-expressive hands to her face for a brief moment. Then suddenly, they fly back down and her stature hardens ever so slightly.

"You try touching me and they’d wish they never tried. Because its like.. you try to touch me and I’m gonna fight back and you know... whatever I can do to hurt you back... because you have no right to touch me like that... Cuz I automatically think of my father. You know.."

I nod slowly as she takes her next breadth between her sprint-like sentences.

"I met Liam here and he’s one of the most special men I have ever met and... he’s 35 years old you know.. and I never really thought I was into older guys… I’m 20 by the way."

She casually flings her hand to the side with the last statement and throws a genuinely fun smile upon her face. Her hard skin and porcupine quills become replaced with her bubbly, care-free attitude. Only able to visit her past for a minute or two, she never gets to fully camp out in her memories... like her daughter beneath the table.

Starbucks, Spanish, and Stupidity

I know this isn’t supposed to be about me, but you have no idea… or maybe you do, (I’m going to assume you don’t)… You have no idea how loud it can be in a Starbucks coffee shop! The four workers with their green aprons and overly smiley faces exude their coffee driven energy throughout the whole café as they bustle from one order to the next. Three short women and one tall, dark man holler out the customer’s desired beverages as I take a seat on the far wall next to a policeman and a distinguished elderly man with a balding spot on the top of his forehead.

I open up my laptop and try to act conspicuous as the gentlemen converse… but like I said before, with the coffee shop literally buzzing with commotion and the two men barely bringing their vocal cords above a whisper, I found myself only registering the “ums” from the distinguished, balding man. THAT WAS IT.

Since my attempts to eaves drop on the two mysterious men was a failure, I decided to direct my attention to the broader scope of the whole shop. Someone was bound to be a loud talker. This was my first time actually wishing someone would be obnoxious in my coffee shop. Of course no one would oblige my wishes when I actually wanted it.

Then a short, Hispanic man in his mid forties sauntered into the café. This was when I finally started to take notice in the over friendly Starbucks employees. The Hispanic man plodded up to the counter when my wish was granted. At the other end of the table was a frizzy brunette with glasses and a stout stature, and of course a fake smile to go with her fake Spanish.

“¡HOLA!”

“Hola. Como estas?”

The frizzy headed woman knew the man probably spoke Spanish but judging by her somewhat dumbfounded expression, she probably didn’t expect to converse too much in his language.

“Um…Muy Bien gracias. Y tu?

I must have missed something in their conversation, because this was about the time the Spanish speaking man grew silent and chose his words slowly and precisely.

“Como estas?”

And this was about the time the frizz head multiplied her volume and practically shouted her repeated answer.

“MUY BIEN GRACIAS! Y TU?”

…

The worker and Mexican just stood across from each other, staring at the confusing expressions plastered on their faces. He then pointed at one of the pastries and handed her two dollars. She replied with a nod and handed him what he wanted. With a little bit of guts left in her frizzy mind, she attempted one last time to get through to him.

“Um… Que Significa ‘I’m Doing well thanks?’”

He didn’t even look at her. Instead he just shook his head in an appreciative way and went back to his plodding out the door. Frizz head’s co-workers looked at her in bewilderment. She just smiled apologetically and tried to play the whole incident off.

“I’m just practicing my Spanish… Mi Gato es mujero.”

The white overly plump blonde behind the counter then laughed and mockingly looked over her shoulder at the dark man.

“Como se dice “Dumbass” en espanol?”

“Tonto?…”

“What?”

“I think it’s tonto or something.”

All four of the workers stumbled for a second as they slowly put their masks back on for the public. The bustle quick started itself as if it’d never stopped and the machines hummed away while the steam was released.

The Intimidating Giggle Queen.

Her pink, fish net leggings looked like an atomic bomb had gone off within her proximity. Splotches of skin shown through until, (thankfully) the netting met the bottom of her short jean skirt. The neon yellow shirt she wore couldn't top her rainbow colored, feather hair but combined, her whole ensemble blared blindingly throughout the whole mall. As I walked up to her and the equally eccentric husband at her side I noticed her multiple jewelry adornments sprinkled about her face. She even went as far as to have her nose piercing connect itself to her ear piercing with an elaborate drooping chain. Pretty intimidating.

As I shook her hand and relayed my plans she sprouted a mesmerizing huge Cheshire smile and eagerly shook her head in a positive nod.

"Of course! I'd love to help."

So we began.

"My name is Alicia."

and then her nervous giggles erupted...

I waited until she started to falter with her fit before I began with my broad questions.

"Life is something that people make harder then they really should. It's something that we should treat like animals... You know? (Giggle, Giggle)" She started absently picking at her nail polish.

"I mean it's a good thing. People shouldn't be hurting each other. People should just live their lives and make the most of it." Her left hand emphasized her passion as it went up into the air and paused in a clawed position.

"Punk is who I am and to tell you the truth... I feel the most at home when I'm either at home or at a punk show." Her eyes glazed over a little as she broke eye contact and looked out past the children playing in the indoor playground.

"I mean, it really lets me get out of my mind. They're just a blast and I try to go to one at least once a week." She smiled triumphantly, happy with her answer, and perkily shrugged and looked back in my direction. (Giggle, Giggle)

I paused and laughed with her contagious "tee hees".

"What are three of your pet peeves?"

"Oh jeez."

She brought out her fingers and pointed to each one as she spoke.

"I hate no manners. Judgmental people. and... people who chew with their mouths open." (Giggle, Giggle)

Moving on...

"If I had to be an animal I would totally be a Squirrel Monkey!!" Her Egyptian style makeup stretched out as her eyes expanded with this comment.

"They're just so cute and lively and I don't know..." (Giggle, Giggle)

"What's one of your biggest dreams/goals?"

She looked out into the unknown once again and contemplated as she fidgeted with her hands.

"Well... I really want to move to Georgia."

"How come?"

"I really don't know. I've just always liked the idea of living in Georgia... Oh and I want to have a skunk farm there." (Giggle, Giggle) She shyly smiled as she knew I would ask "Why?"

"I think they're fun. I've never owned one but I would just love to have a whole farm of them. Speckled ones, striped ones, chocolates... I love em." (Giggle, Giggle)

As I thanked her again for giving me a piece of her time she enthusiastically jiggled from head to toe as if she'd shot up a whole gallon of caffeine.

"Oh! Could I by any chance get your picture?"

She threw back on her cat like smile and I snapped the shot.

"Wait! Can I see it? Is it good?"

I handed the camera to her and she gave it a hard study before she victoriously and reverently placed the camera back into my palm.

"It works." (Giggle, Giggle)