I was a nerdy kid, I was a nerdy teen, I am a nerdy adult, and I will probably be a nerdy old man. When I was younger I just wanted to be cool. I just wanted to be part of the in crowd. I never was. I am not sad about it but it is the best way I can start this story.
I really thought you were only cool if you had an earring. So in my dash to be part of the in crowd I convinced myself that earrings were my thing. I did the same thing when I was in 8th grade and wanted to listen Easy-E or is it EZ-E or is it Lil' Weezy E? I don't know my parents listened to it before I could because of the parental warning. They decided that fucker and bitch were not something a boy my age should listen to. All the kids said it would be so cool if one of them could get it. It was not destined to be.
Back to the point...
My mother was adamant about her son not having an earring. I did not understand. She had them, my sister had them.
Oh yeah....riiiiiiiight. That is a different argument. I am a dude.
Suddenly my 18th birthday was fast approaching. I had a brilliant plan. I would ask my friend to take me and get my ear pierced as a birthday gift. I mean I would be some kind of awful jerk to turn down a birthday present. I can't remember if I offered to pay or if it was a real birthday gift she paid for. Either way I was the awkward owner of a silver stud in my left ear.
That is all it was I opted against giant hoop earrings or earrings that proclaimed how slutty I am. I even did not go for diamond or gold. I am saving diamond or gold for my teeth.
So I came home and showed my mom. I was soooooo proud of myself. My mother raised such a clever son. She however did not see it that way. She was not incredibly happy with my decision. I came armored with my air tight alibi of the gift excuse. She saw right through it. I should have expected that. Not because it was not a solid alibi but because she was a Chicago police officer. She probably had me investigated or bugged and followed.
I was 18 and played the I am an adult card. She ran through the not under my roof routine. She let me keep it knowing full well that I would grow to regret it. Which I did. I remained indignant and kept it for a few months. Then I took it out.
I would try it again a few more times until finally I discovered my humor and my own identity. I no longer cared about impressing people or pretending to be who I am not just to be accepted.
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