After locking myself (and my car key) out of my apartment and having to walk across the complex to find security, speeding to Universal’s City Walk with my friend Wells, running through the parking garage, and swerving through a huge crowd of people in order to meet our friends in a restaurant before the under 21 cut off—
it turns out they wouldn’t let me in anyway after they had already told my friends that I had until 10 to get in.
Being one of the only two people on the trip that’s not quite 21 yet has already been frustrating enough. I could care less about drinking, it’s just that it’s impossible to go out anywhere with everyone on the weekends.
I was fuming.
I was about to go home.
But then I said, “Fuck it,” got cinna-bites from Wetzel’s Pretzels, and danced in the middle of City Walk under lights and huge TV screens.
It helped that I had awesome friends who confronted the management about their poor communication and then left and met me anyway, even after I told them I was fine.
But at this point,
it’s pretty simple.
When someone or something rains on your parade,
create another one, and dance on your own.