A day that changed my life

     I left my 4-hour-long digital imaging class that Friday with a brake-screeching, misassembled-band-playing, excruciating migraine. After two different medications, a nap, a can of Wild Cherry Pepsi (apparently sometimes caffeine cures a headache), and a few squeezes to various pressure points, my migraine had exited the building. “Mom, it’s gone!” I called out, “I can go to the club tonight!”

    Filling up my dad’s black Ford Escape were my friends, Matt, Anthony, and Brittany. Two more friends were waiting outside the club. “What’s up guys?” I asked Michelle and Carl. “They won’t let Carl in because he’s got dreads,” replied Michelle.

     With my head held high, I approached a male security guard, about 5’11”, well over 200 pounds. “Why won’t you let him in?” I inquired. “He’s intoxicated,” the man answered. “What!? First off, he’s 22 years-old; second, he hasn’t even had one drink! So what are you talking about!? The other guy said that he isn’t allowed in because of his dreads, so pick one!” I argued. The man chuckled and walked away.

      I fought with several security guards that night, each with a different excuse as to why my friend was not allowed to enter The Roxxy. I even cried to an officer.

     Frozen on the beige sidewalk, cold tears descending, I finally walked away.

     My friend was of African-American descent. Do I think that that was the real reason that the club would not allow him to enter? Of course. I turned my back toward the club that night. I headed down North Delaware Ave., and then turned around to look at the club once more. It was at that moment when I realized that the world is cruel, and though that fact is simply understood, it will not be cleanly realized until it manifestly meets the eye.