Coffee shops and weddings

Settle in. This is going to be a long one.

First of all, I was sitting at a local coffee shop today minding my own business in the back corner when out of nowhere came a herd of 13 year-olds. There was really only five of them, but the entire store was empty and they chose to "visit" in the back corner, a ten-by-ten foot area, where I was happily flipping through hundreds of GRE flashcards.

One girl was quiet and sat down at the table next to me. The other girl was painfully obnoxious and did not know how to talk. She could only scream, and did so no more than two inches from any of the three boys' faces at any given moment, lest they forget she was there. The words she used? I don't know. But what she was this: "Look at me! I have to scream because that means I am outgoing!"

When they first came around the corner, one of the boys said, "Um, I think that girl is trying to concentrate."

Obnoxious girl screamed, "I think she'll be fine!"

Another boy said, "Well, no one else is in here, lets just go over there."

The other girl said, "Well, why don't you ask her."

Obnoxious girl screamed, "She doesn't care, look."

The third boy said, "I think she does."

Finally I turned to them and said, "I can hear you guys. I'm sitting right here."

They asked if I cared and I said no, because I was afraid of a bunch of 13-year-olds making fun of me later on MySpace. So they screamed and yelled, and pulled chairs out from under each other and flicked whipped cream at each other, and I packed up my computer and multi-colored index cards and left.

The thing is, I love 13 year-olds. But I prefer the kinds who do not believe they are entitled EVERYthing because they were born with a cell phone and a supernatural proficiency in text-messaging. I like the ones who paint their fingernails black and communicate through songs and poems, not screaming. (That one goes out to you, Bo-Bita) And how about Adrian, who probably doesn't even know what a coffee shop looks like on the inside and wouldn't have transportation to get there, anyway? That kid can sure make me laugh. They do not spend their summer afternoons purchasing $4 coffee treats as they compliment each other's Aeropostal tanks. KIDS BELONG OUTSIDE IN THE SUMMER.

Second, my brother is getting married on Saturday. Funny thing. I have a thousand thoughts on this topic that I might come back to another day. I might title it: Bryan-- the type of brother to walk into your gymnastics class and do a standing back tuck when you have been working on it for a year passing through all the appropriate levels while he was just there with your dad to pick you up. I think that explains the problem of him getting married before me.

The heavier topic on my mind, though, as I think about the upcoming weekend is: The Aunts. The Aunts are the older and younger sister of a one Dorothy Lee Dismukes, otherwise known as Crazy Grammy. The Aunts hover just above and below the mental frequency of Grammy, shorting out at all the same places. This means at least 5 times, one of them will approach me and say, sweetly, with a twinkle, "Darlin? Anything speeeeecial in your life?" and they'll wink, leaning in, eagerly anticipating an engagement story.

When I don't produce, they'll lower their glasses, cock their heads to the side and say, "We-ell, sugar. You just aren't sweet enough, thats all. You know your cousin Darcy is getting married next week. And Will just graduated Law School."

They'll all turn and compliment each other on such successful grandkids, momentarily forgetting pathetic old me in front of them. Then they'll turn back and squint, automatically zooming in to the teeniest flaw on my face before they can even help themselves, and my grandma will take off her glasses and say, "Brookie? Do you need some more Clinique?" in the sweetest possible voice, and I'll say, "No grammy. I'm fine."

She hasn't bought me Clinique since 8^th grade.

So she'll pull her head back and raise her eyebrows as she puts her glasses back on just in time to spot a hideous pair of orange slingbacks walking by that she immediately needs to go address.

I love her. I really do. And one day when she's long gone, well laugh about these things. I just wanted to get a head start.