young love

Yesterday while working the evening shift {fyi, i hate the evening shift} at PB, I was swamped.

When the door to the salon opens, an automatic woman speaks through the loud speakers “Left front door, OPEN.”  This is supposed to alert me if I am one of the tanning rooms cleaning a bed {or peeing, or secretly laying on the teeth whitening chair half asleep in a private room}.  When this woman speaks, it usually means that one, mayyybe two people have walked through the door.  I usually finish cleaning the bed at my normal pace and bounce up to the front to greet the customers.  Well, yesterday when the woman spoke and I bounced to the front of the salon, I was forced to stop in my tracks.  I looked out the giant store front window for some type of van or bus that would have dropped the herd of teenagers that was now standing in my salon off.  It had to be a joke, I thought, as I counted 10, no. 15, no. 20.  Yes, TWENTY teenagers.  And they all wanted to use the mystic booth.  Uhm, fabulous, I thought, since we only have ONE booth.  They’re going to be here all night.

Much to my surprise, these teenagers were cheerful and polite {though tragically loud}.  They were simply excited to be hanging out together and passed the time in between their mystic sessions by chatting about their upcoming dance: the reason for their visit.  Apparently this is a dance where the girl asks the guy.  And surprisingly, they all had dates that they each had asked in some creative way.  I have to assume that came from Laguna Beach unless of course, gasp, that show was before their time.  Which in that case, they make me feel old.

But anyhoo, back to the point.  It was nice to hear them talk about the upcoming weekend with such wonder and excitement.  It got me thinking about my days as a teenager and what school dances meant.  All the preparation that went into them.  The only modern day comparison I have is {of course on a grander scale} planning my wedding.  But these girls were throwing the word “love” around, and it made me scared for them.  Not a one of them were over sixteen years old, and if I remember back to who I thought I loved when I was sixteen, it wasn’t pretty.  The breakups when you’re that age sting.  Not that breakups at all ages don’t hurt, but when you’re that young and vulnerable, breakups just take a piece of you.  I so badly wanted to advise them to have their fun and not to fall in love, but alas, I am just the tanning lady and kept my mouth shut.

And who I am to talk, really?  Come May, I’ll be married to the boy I spoke about love with when I was just a wee little teenager.

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About JoElizabeth

I am a writer who loves to explore all different types of relationships. I am most happy when surrounded by my loved ones and furry children. I've never met a stranger, and I talk way too much. My favorite things to do are eat {preferably at a restaurant} with good friends, write, watch DVDs of TV series {especially FRIENDS}, drink lots of coffee and learn.
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