The trip of a lifetime is over and I’m back on the humid east coast. My welcome home experience? A couple screaming at each other. After dropping off my bags and examining my windowsill mold, which I unsuccessfully tried to wipe away with a paper towel (and gave me hives. Of course), I headed to Fairway to pick up some milk, strawberries, and Greek yogurt. I’d only eaten a slice of repulsive pizza at Chicago-Midway airport all day (and isn’t Chicago known for producing awesome pizza? What a fraud), so I was ready for healthy stuff.
But there was drama along the way. When I reached the stoplight, I was a few feet behind a guy and a girl engaging in a yelling match. After she scolded him for stomping on her “$60 sandals,” he turned to me and said, “Call the police. Call the police. You look like the kind of girl who would call the police. Want to know why my girlfriend right here is mad? Because I slept with her friend and her friend looks just like you. That’s why we’re fighting. You look just like Bridget.”
“No, she’s prettier than Bridget,” the woman said.
“Yeah. And now look at the girl. She’s so embarrassed. Nice going, b—,” he told his girlfriend. “You totally embarrassed the poor girl.”
For my own safety, I kept quiet and avoided eye contact. I’d just reluctantly returned home from the greatest vacation of my life. Why ruin the otherwise heavenly weekend by getting reamed by livid people? As I’ve said before, it’s pretty much impossible for me not to encounter this kind of weirdness in NYC, so it was only natural that I’d come back to my new “home” to the worst boyfriend ever! Makes me wonder why so many young women put up with that nonsense. All I needed was five minutes around Dyanna and Kyle to see how much I’ve been missing this whole time. Oy!
Anyway, Tucson, I miss you a lot. Not going to mention how many times I’ve whimpered since arriving at Tucson International Airport this morning. I can’t fight it any longer: I’m a desert person and forever a west coast/southwestern girl. I don’t think I can live this far away from my friends or family for more than two years. I’ll either end up in Santa Barbara or go back to Arizona. Either way, I legitimately need the dry heat and my college pals to survive.