Posturing

We were on a field trip to the Museum of Modern Art, on the number 8X bus headed downtown. It was one of those loooooooong buses whose two parts are connected by an accordion looking thing. This girl and her friends were in the back, ditching school, wearing her black hoodie and Old Navy hunting cap for her day out and about tagging city buses. We were in the back too. That's what you do when you get on a crowded bus. We were all standing there while these kids took out their fat markers and started tagging the same thing again and again.

"What?! You wanna take my picture? Get my good side!" The guy with the curly hair and badly bucked brown teeth said that while I openly photographed their exploits through the arms of my students and other city folk riding the Express. Most everyone ignored them or held a disgusted look on their faces while reluctantly taking in the criminal act.

They were rude and young and almost pityingly immature. At least she's not pregnant, I thought. I'd hate to be her kid.

At least she didn't look pregnant.

Once they got off, my kids looked like MLK, Mother Teresa and my cat all rolled into one. They tried to figure out what they could draw on top of the tags to make it look nicer, or what stickers they could come prepared with next time.

Nothing but unicorns could save that mess.

We had a really good docent at the museum. And except for the lost (and now returned) wallet, and the hummingbird who died after flying into the glass wall by the rooftop sculpture garden, it was a really nice trip.