I was on the phone with my longtime homegirl Jane when she told me that she and her roommate Claire were throwing their first party and that I had to be there. I immediately hopped in my whip and ventured my way over to the west side. I destined upon a light blue house with star-like lights covering the front porch. I knew it was theirs.
Jane gave me a tour of the house and it was for real love at first sight. Towards the end of the tour we came across an empty bedroom...
Before committing my movement into their house I obviously had to tell my parents. As much as they loved the idea that they no longer needed to support me financially, they were a little skeptic about me living on the west side of town. My mom kept saying it was "dangerous" and "ghetto" and that there had been a lot of shootings on that side of town. Yes this was a small life concern, but please mom... I took kickboxing, no one's gonna mess with me. Plus my girls lived in a good neighborhood and with an alarm system.. we were straight.
A few weeks later I had moved all of my belongings in and I was officially a part of the west side. I didn't know much about this part of town, and only knew a few people so I decided to do a little venturing. I walked to the top of the hill where I came across the most gorgeous park I've seen in all of Syracuse. I'm telling you I seriously couldn't even believe it existed. It was completely picture perfect and peaceful. In fact that's where I decided to write my letter to Mr. Carter. A little past the park was another of my favorite sightings: Strathmore. Strathmore is a street with some of the most simplistic, gorgeous looking houses I've ever seen. And during the summer the soccer moms go all out with their gardens, its quite the sight. Not to mention the fact that up the street from Strathmore you can find yourself some Gannon's Ice cream and my favorite Velasko's pizza. With all of this beauty that the west side held, how could my mom make such irrational assumptions??
Everyday as I drove to the bottom of my hill I happened to notice a group of 3 older gentleman sitting on their porch. They weren't too sketchy or anything, they were just always on their porch. Not really even moving either, just in the same position staring straight at the stop sign where every car approached as they left my street. As I began to question the lives of these gentleman I couldn't help but wonder about the rest of my fellow west siders. I mean I never really saw a lot of people out during the day at all. I would say that I'm a pretty sociable person, and I really wanted to make friends on the west, but I felt as if I were running on a different time schedule than everyone else. The only time I saw any other girls was around 10/10:30 pmish. While generally people who have dogs take them for a night run, these girls were taking their children on a night run... I'm not kidding. Babies... in strollers... 10 o'clock... it's fine? And speaking of dogs, there's only one type of breed on the west. Pit bulls. Not sure why they're a crowd favorite, but whatever. Because I have no children, or pit bulls (the necessary tools to bond with my fellow west siders) I decided to pursue other alternatives.
Off to the local dollar store I went to do some shopping. I walked inside, and not a soul was in sight, besides the young man at the cash register. So I purchased some pens, and saw myself out. As I walked towards my car in the parking lot I noticed a group of people having a barbecue. Yes in the dollar store parking lot. As tempted as I was to go over and say hello, I had to resist because I had just committed myself to vegetarianism and I didn't want to look foolish. Plus everyone was already looking at me as if I were actually from mars. Since my dollar store trip was a fail, I figured I'd just wait around for another opportunity. While another attempt out I ventured down to the corner store to find two gentleman around my age. I walked in and made my purchase. Before I had the chance to say hello, one of them asked me if I was interested in purchasing marijuana. I politely declined, and went on my way. I was disappointed that drugs was the only conversation starter I've had.
Both of my roommates were out of town for the weekend, and I didn't want to be alone in the house by myself so I called my girl michelle to come over and join me. While waiting for her to arrive I heard a series of gunshots incredibly close to the house. I immediately hid under my covers as I feared my life, and cursed at myself because in this unfortunate event my mother happened to be right...again. I thought my life was ending, I couldn't help but think that I was going to die and still would not have been able to duet with Kid Cudi and become a multimillionaire before I reach 30. I've never heard gun shots before and was absolutely terrified. I should have just listened to my parents. Damn them for being right! All of a sudden my phone rang, it was Michelle. I answered and told her to save herself and drive home, when in fact she was already at the door. The gunshots had stopped so I figured it was safe to retrieve her. I got to the door and told her everything that had happened. As if my life couldn't be any more of a joke, she explained to me that the kids at the end of the block were lighting firecrackers and although it is illegal in the state of New York, I suppose it's a little different on the west side...
It seemed to me that from my weak attempts I was going to find a lot of difficulty blending in and/or making friends with the west siders. So towards the end of the summer I moved out my belongings and ventured back to the east. And although I didn't leave with friends, I left with the remembrance of my summer on the west side.
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