So Much Depends On a Pair of Platform Shoes

High school...ahh, the memories. It is interesting that while I disliked much of my highschool experience, I have in my more recent, wiser years realized that I would do high school all over again to have the friends that I do now. My Freshman year, I was brand new to this particular conservative private school. Being that my parents did not work for this establishment, the only possible conclusion for my enrollment was that I was a discipline problem, a rebel who needed a new moral compass. I took this to heart and tried to live up to my new expectations. Judging by everyone's reaction to me, a girl in a broomstick skirt was apparently very intimidating. One day, about 2 weeks into school, I was sulking at my desk in World History waiting for class to start. The guy who sat in front of me was nice enough. He always said "hi" and never gave me a Drink-the-Kool-Aid vibe. Plus, his name was Quay. I was immediately intrigued since "Quay" was about as unusual as "Evie." These hints of decency were not enough for me to snap out of my silent brood and be friendly. I had no idea that I would make my first friend that day. In strolled Quay, wearing a brown, polyester leisure suit and the most hilarious platform loafers I had ever seen. Gasps were heard, people fainted, the teacher was flabbergasted. Why, oh why would he wear this outfit!? A certain girl in the front row yanked out her school handbook to see if this outfit was deemed inappropriate. While most of the class was shaking their heads, I was laughing. An uncontrollable, tears in the eyes, embarrassing kind of laugh. Quay turned around and said, "So, you can laugh. " To this day, I still chuckle thinking about those shoes.