The year is 2005 and it's Summer. I am 17 years old. I have short brown hair, over-plucked eyebrows, spiky hip bones and clumpy mascara. I'm studying for my SATs and taking remedial Pre-Calculus because I failed it Junior Year. I'm in tights even though it's 100 degrees out because I think my legs look fat. I'm volunteering at a Bookstore.
The Bookstore is called "Internationalist Books" and it's located on Franklin Street. I work there five days a week, from 10:00AM to 5:00PM. The job is easy and fun, aside from when I have customers. I don't know how to use the cash register. So I give away some things for free. I don't tell anybody about this.
I take a bus from my neighborhood to get there every morning because I can't drive. My Boyfriend usually drives me everywhere. It's our second year together, and We're In Love. He works at a cafe down the street. I visit him there all the time. But when I'm not visiting him, I'm meeting someone else. The Guy I Used To Be Obsessed With. He works at The Comic Book Shop. I was in love with him for three years. I think that he liked me too, but now he has a girlfriend. His Shop is across the street from my Bookstore, next to the Greek Restaurant. During Lunch I run over to meet him, leaving the Bookstore unlocked. But I'm not worried. Nobody will come in, and if they do, they won't steal. We have like five customers a day. And they're hippies. This Bookstore is kind of unpopular. Because this Bookstore specializes in Lesbian Erotica, Transexual Fashion, Socialist Propaganda, Farming Tutorials, Yoga Instructions, and of course, Vice Magazine. So when I'm not calling my Boyfriend or running to the Comic Shop or buying Diet Coke at McDonald's I'm obsessing over this new Vice. It's the first time I've ever seen it and I think it's ~fantastic~ and I imagine the people writing for it are these interesting and worldly people who must lead fulfilling, hilarious lives. And I'm jealous of them.
And so if someone had told That Tea, 17 Year Old Tea, that one day, she'd have her Very Own Column for Vice, for Italian Vice, and that she could write about whatever she wants, she'd be super excited.
Excited, because that's so f'ing cool man and also because I don't even know I know how to write yet I only write like essays on Shakespeare for Ms. Parker even though I never even really read all of it because WHO DOES, you know? But I'd also probably be confused. Italy?
Welcome To My Column: Read It HERE.