Chapter Six: Andrew Walks Home

My idea of fun has changed a bit since the start of high school. Presently, for better or worse, I'm not usually satisfied anymore unless I'm pushing the envelope in some fashion. Without going too much into detail, just know that I like to flirt with the boundaries of my comfort zones. In contrast to how far I've come, at the dawn of my freshman year my lifestyle was a bit more deferential and placid. Whereas now, where even weekdays are susceptible to any number of mischievous shenanigans, my ideas about fun back then were contained to uncomplicated trips to Wal-Mart.

And so there I found myself on an uneventful Wednesday, early in freshman year, home alone after school. Kerem called. He wanted me to accompany him and his new Indian friend, Akash, to Wal-Mart. I could have stayed home and played Runescape in the basement, but hanging out with friends on a weekday was unheard of - simply too good of an offer to pass up. Kerem's grandfather picked me up shortly afterward.

Our trio was thus complete: me, Kerem, and Akash. We meditated on life's pressing issues. Finding dates for homecoming as freshmen, karate lessons and whoop ass, and other boyish matters of concern. However, one issue dwarfed all others; we needed to get some poster board from Wal-Mart, pronto.

Not that big of a deal, really, just about a mile and a half down various main roads through the heart of suburbanized northern Virginia. We made the trek with ease, and Wal-Mart was stocked with ample amounts of standard white poster board. We made another curious find as well. Flimsy, plastic Darth Vader masks, for about ninety cents each.

Just for kicks, Kerem put on the Darth Vader mask, whilst Akash and I put down our hoods so they covered our faces. In the midst of a massive disillusion that we were somehow bad ass Sith-looking motherfuckers, we began accosting Wal-Mart employees, James Earl Jones voice impression included. The reactions we drew validated my suspicions. We just ended up looking like a couple of regular lameass motherfuckers.

Retrospective embarrassment aside, we had fulfilled our goals. The time had come to return home. The sun was beginning to set, but we still had plentiful time before darkness set in. The walk back to Kerem's house was routine, and it was about time that my mom came and picked me up.

During the ride home, my mom posed the normal fair of questions.

"So what did you guys do?"

"We went to Wal-Mart."

"Oh, how did you get there?"

"We walked."

"YOU WALKED?! It's dark outside! You could have been hit by a car!!!"

"Well, it's dark now, but we walked back nearly an hour ago. There was still light out."

"I can't believe you walked to Wal-Mart! Cars can't see you, you could have died!"

"Well I didn't get hit by a car. They have sidewalks for a reason, mom. Chill out."

"DON'T TELL ME TO CHILL OUT! DO YOU WANT TO WALK THE REST OF THE WAY HOME?!?!"

And that was it. My 'crime' was walking to Wal-Mart during well-lit daylight hours, sticking to sidewalks, and obeying traffic signals. If I was going to get yelled at for doing nothing wrong, then I was going to let my mom know she was being absolutely ridiculous, oppressive, and deranged. I let her know how I felt.

But as we all know, families are hardly democracies. My mom followed through on her threat, something she scarcely does. My insubordination was rewarded with the joy walking home.

As I began hoofing it back to my house, I dialed up some friends. I needed to share this experience, I wanted to know if I had acted out of place. After all, had I seriously just been kicked out of the car because I walked to Wal-Mart? I called my dad, and he was none too happy with the situation. Unfortunately, his parental jurisdiction was limited on this quaint weekday evening. Retribution would have to wait.

Ironically, the path from the place I got kicked out of the car back to my house was longer, darker, and in a shadier neighborhood than the route from Kerem's house to Wal-Mart. Talk about out of the frying pan and into the fire. If my mom was honestly worried about me getting hit by a car before, she didn't show it. According to her own perverse logic, she would apparently risk me getting hit by an auto just so she could make a feebleminded point.

Frustration and hypocrisy at their finest. I still felt I was right, that my mom was behaving in an uncalled for manner. Whenever I bring up teenage rebellion in class, Mr. Monteverde always says, "Without hypocrites, nothing would get done."And I think his point has a lot of validity. But I don't think this is the kind of motherly hypocrisy he envisioned.