Going home is like a second christmas to a college student. We can see family, eat cooked food and see how the town had changed. Growing up in a small town with a minim population of about a thousand, nothing really changes except the people.
So there I find myself in one of the most happening hot-spot, the Goodwill store right next to Taco Bell. As I browsed through the gently used items, picking only the clothes with a blue tag because that was the half-off 'tag of the day', I heard him.
Well, I heard his laugh. His laugh was unmistakeable, mixed between a cackle and a smokers cough, and extremely loud. I looked up, putting back the ugly red sweater that was six dollars, and looked at him. He looked the same, still gorgeous, hot and tanned. His hair was longer, he looked thinner so naturally I hid as quickly as possible.
I wondered what he was doing at goodwill and really wanted to ask him and was about to when a girl walked in. She grabbed his arm, looked into his eyes and kissed him.
But as I left the store, a three dollar sweater in my arms, I thought back to high school. When him and I were friends and hung out. When we all hung out together. And naturally, the song that was playing was the Spice Girls's 'Never Give Up on the Good Times'.
What counts as a good time? I know there are many answers, many interpretations but only one true answer.
The good times are where you can laugh at yourself. The good times that make you simile and make you look like a complete werido, like I do when I'm in class. Having a good time with yourself makes for a good time itself.
As I was driving home, from college, I was dancing by myself. Every car that passed me, looked over and honestly I didn't have a care in the world.
So, never give up those good times cause sometimes thats all you have left.
No comments:
Post a Comment