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Things don't seem to be as easy as they used to be.
It's getting harder every day, to think of better things to say.
About what's going on around you, and what's happening inside you.
No matter what you think or do or say, Everything Turns Grey.
Agent Orange.

"Yesss, yessss, oh yesss!"

My sister Natalie pounded on the door. "Hey, Nasty! What the hell are you doing in there?"

I stopped jumping up and down on the bed and came out of my room. "I. Have. A. Date. Tonight. It's my first one. She said yes!"

"Your first? Why didn't you tell me? My friend Vicky thought you were cute, and I could have set her up with you last summer."

Two years older than me, Natalie had been very popular during her high school years, and a few of her friends had been fantasies of mine. "Vicky? Wow. Is she still..."

"No you spazz, she's gone away to college. Too late. So, who's the girl? Anyone I know?"

"No. She's a new girl named Julianne."

"The new girl. That's smart. She doesn't know how weird you can be. Not yet."

I couldn't help but agree. "Yeah."

"Let's see how much you've going to screw this up, Ray. How old is Julianne?"

"Uhh. I don't know. I think she's a sophomore."

"You didn't ask?"

I looked at my feet in silence.

"Such a dork. Ok, what does she do for fun?"

"Ummm..."

"Ugh. What classes does she take?"

"Hmmm..."

"Really? Who does she hang out with?"

"Well, I think... Hmm. I don't know."

Natalie sighed,  "Wow. Even I'm surprised. Last chance. What does she look like? Or didn't you notice?"

I perked up. "She's a very pretty redhead. Almost as tall as me, but not skinny. Lots of freckles. And a cute lisp!"

She rolled her eyes. "You're making this up, aren't you?"

I protested, "No, she's real. We're going to the X concert, and a party afterwards."

Natalie narrowed her eyes, exactly the way I did. Before I cut my hair off six months ago, we appeared identical, and had often been mistaken for twins when young. "She likes X?"

The first punk band out of the Los Angeles scene to achieve a modicum of commercial success, X's poetic yet raw approach appealed to an older fan base. Songs like Los Angeles, White Girl, and The Hungry Wolf could be heard on alternative radio, as well as MTV. Natalie had been an early participant in the late 1970's Southern California punk scene, and had introduced me to the music. She looked and acted the part, and was just as popular there as she had been in high school. "Shit, Natalie. I don't know. We listened to the Ramones, and she liked them."

Natalie folded her arms, clearly impressed. "She's a punk rocker? Interesting."

"No. Not really. She looks like a normal girl."

"A normal girl? This is going to be a disaster. Do you even like her?"

Do I? Or did I just ask her out because she's pretty?

I rubbed my scalp. "I don't know. I guess I'll find out. We've only spent an hour together."

She picked up her Les Paul guitar and strummed. "Wait. You met a girl, then asked her out an hour later? That's... not how it usually works in high school."

"I realize that, Natalie. All my friends dated girls they knew for at least a semester. I tried that, and..."

She clumsily fingered a chord. I had learned a bit from her, and found guitar to be simpler than the various wind instruments I had played for six years. "Ok, Ray. I get it. It makes sense that your dating life wouldn't be normal. Tell you what. I'll help you get ready."

I grinned. "Thank you. I wanted to ask, but I thought you'd make fun of me. Which you did."

She hit my shoulder, then opened her closet. "Oh, I'm just getting started, Dorkasuarus. I've already moved most of the good stuff into my apartment, but I should have something for you to wear."

She wants me to wear her clothes?

My sister held up a pair of black jeans. "Try these on. They'll be tight, but you should be able to squeeze in. Your leather jacket will go with them. How did you get a brand new $400 jacket anyways?"

I strolled into the store, put it on, then walked out the back door, all in ten seconds...

I smiled innocently, "At the thrift store. It was only $50."

Natalie facepalmed. "I almost believe that. Bring it here. I have some pins to put on it. And grab that stupid T-shirt you wrote stuff all over."

I managed to get the thin-fabric jeans on without much struggle, enjoying the snug fit. My average, unimpressive package clearly and lewdly outlined, causing me doubts, but the long jacket covered it. Barely.

Ahh, well. Julianne will like it, or she won't...

My decorated T-shirt had not been worn since laundry day, so I pulled it over my head and headed back to Natalie.

I don't know about this...

She surveyed my outfit and remarked, "That's not bad. Let me see the shirt. What the fuck does all that shit mean?"

I had written small tributes to my friends, with little inside jokes, nicknames, sayings, and song lyrics.

Feeling a bit of shame, I answered, "Just things my friends and I say to each other."

She pointed. "Coitus. Why do you say that?"

"That's what I call my pal Curtis."

She snorted. "That's actually pretty funny. Coitus. Ok, how about 'Fuck of the mountain?"

"It's from a George Carlin album."

She wiggled her hand in a so-so gesture. Where does "The Big Valley" come from? The television show?"

"Umm, there's this girl we know, and she's, you know... she's got big boobs, and..."

Natalie cracked up. "Is Julianne busty?"

I shook my head, "Not really."

"Tell her it's the tv show if she asks. Anyways, see how your idiotic shirt can be a conversation starter?"

Talking to my date had not occurred to me, and the prospect of keeping quiet Julianne entertained worried me. Two of the girls I had made out with were very outgoing, boisterous, and chattered incessantly. With the third, alcohol had loosened our tongues. "Yes, I get it."

"Listen, Nasty. Don't make it weird, but no matter how she looks, tell her she's pretty. And ask her things, like what she's studying, what she wants to do with her life, any pets she has. I know you're going to be creepy about it, but if she's dating you, she obviously doesn't care too much. Just be nice, not the sarcastic asshole you like to be. Can you do that?"

"I think so. Thank you Natalie, none of that would have occurred to me."

"Of course it wouldn't, that's what makes you such a dork. Ok, next is the shoes. My boyfriend left these boots in my car."

I tried on the thick-heeled shiny work boots, decorated with chrome chains. At least two sizes bigger than my feet, they flopped when I walked. Natalie handed me a pair of heavy socks, and stuffed crumpled newspaper in the boots' toes. It was an improvement, but still felt loose. "Natalie, why do you want me in these boots? I hate them."

"God, you're such a spazzmatron. You said Julianne is tall, like me. She will want to wear heels, because they make her legs and butt look better. Girls love when their guys are taller than them, so you're going to wear these boots. Trust me, she will appreciate it."

It made sense, so I left the boots on. "Anything else?"

"Yeah, let me do your hair."

She added some gel and made it spiky. Two skull rings went on my fingers, a huge crucifix went around my neck, then she reached into her huge purse. "Hold still for this. Just a touch of eyeliner. Ok, what do you think?"

I looked in the mirror.

I'm fucking ridiculous...

"Nasty brother, you almost look cool. Don't get me wrong, you're still going to screw it up, but at least she won't be too embarrassed to be seen with you!"

That's more than I expected...

"Natalie, this is going to be the best date... ever!"

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