Gothika vs Purple Rox
Wednesday, September 24th, 2008Back in college I used to work for the newspaper. And so did Jack. Jack was hot. Tall, dark hair, black glasses. He had a hot little lip piercing. Loved music. He was so rad.
He also had a girlfriend. She was pale. Wore lots of dark clothes. Had black fingernails and piercings all over. And her hair. It was jet black. My guy friend B and I called her Gothika.
Jack and I would flirt a little, but not really. We were more goofy than flirty, I guess.
One night, I was complaining to B about how much I just wanted to hang out with Jack and we came to the conclusion…
That I needed to dye my hair black. That was the only way he was going to notice me. So we went to the now torn down Wally World, bought jet black dye and dyed my hair. It would have been cool…
Had my hair not turned purple. And had he noticed it. He didn’t even as much as mention that it looked bad. I mean. Nothing.
I did rock that purple hair though.
About a year or so later, we ‘dated’ for maybe two weeks. Then we decided to be adventurous and venture out to Red Star, to which neither of us had been. Karaoke with DJ Bird [props!]. Jack didn’t take well to Red Star and stopped seeing me after that.
I guess I was gothic enough. Ah well.
