Glitter and Giggles

The scene: 2011 Atlanta Nights

I stared into the mirror and adjusted the dollar store tiara on my head for the 100th time. More sequins floated delicately onto my cheeks as I did this, and they nearly melted right into the 4-inch-thick glitter and glue plastered to my face. I glanced down at my cell phone lying on the old cream formica countertop surrounding the sink, and after a 2-second pause, decided to keep ignoring the missed calls and text messages assaulting my screen incessantly. My eyes lifted back up to the mirror, just as Sebastian traipsed into the bathroom.

“I should’ve gone with the silver one,” he was shaking his head, and came to stand beside me, staring at his own reflection in the mirror. He dropped the heaviest sigh I have ever heard in my life, and I couldn’t help but laugh at the theatrics. It’s one of the reasons I adore him more than anyone.

He’d chosen a matching tiara in gold, and though I understood his disdain for the cheaply glued-on specks of ochre-colored awfulness, in truth, Sebastian would look good in a turd tiara. He’s a beautiful human on the outside, and as tired as it sounds, he’s so pretty on the inside, too. The duality enhances just how beautiful he is almost to a cosmic level.

“Well, here we are,” I told him, as I quickly dusted the glitter from my dress. It was futile and that glitter would not be making any moves for the next decade. “Are you ready? We’ve got to meet the boys in 20.”

“Chapstick, chapstick, chapstick,” Sebastian replied, splaying his hands over the bathroom cabinets like a wizard.

“I have 2 in my purse, and you’ve got 2 in your pocket,” I reminded him, but he ignored me, pulling 1 more tube out of a drawer.

“Okay, I’m ready,” he spun on his heels and exited in a fashion that would seem put-on for anyone that didn’t know him, but it was truly his natural gait.

I walked into the adjoining bedroom and slipped on some incredibly high stilettos that I’d just bought with my first “big-girl job” check and followed after Sebastian to the front door.

“I know you think I’m a chapstick fiend,” he smirked as we began our walk towards the bar.

“You are,” I agreed. “But what’s on my mind is how I can’t quit sneezing, and I’m afraid my mascara is gonna end up smeared to my ear.” It was spring and we were living off generic brand Claritin and warm, cheap whiskey.

“I won’t let it get that far,” he promised. “Plus, I doubt anyone will notice anything past the crowns.”

Sebastian wasn’t wrong. It was a big night and we’d dressed the part for this once-in-a-lifetime event. Prince William and Kate Middleton were getting hitched across the pond, and it was Friday night. Someone had to represent the occasion, and that someone was us.

I remember that night so vividly, because if you managed to look past the pollen-laden cars parked along the sidewalks, it was one that was full of stars. A nice breeze cut through the thick, swampy air, which was unheard of in April, making the half-hour walk to the bar enjoyable. Whimsical, even.

And whimsical would not have been the word I would have ever though to describe life back then. Living in Atlanta in the end-of-aughts 2000 era was a weird existence for 20-somethings. You were working, doing grad school, or had just dropped in as a transient graduate from somewhere else in the world. None of us knew what we were doing, and we’d been through about 3 national doomsdays at that point.

For Sebastian and me, the story was a little bit of everything. We were both working, I’d given up school while he still dabbled in it a bit, and though it wasn’t from very far away, we were most certainly transients of a sort.

We’d both grown up in a small town, and if you’re not from one, it’s hard to explain just how dense of a bubble it can be for a person. While I got out before he did, Sebastian would make Atlanta his home first. We both took different trajectories, with me bouncing around other small towns and states, colleges, and jobs before finally deciding to land in Atlanta. Sebastian had always had his eye on a big city, and after working and saving for a couple of years, he beelined for the big A. By the time I would arrive, Seb already had an ecosystem in place. A tribe of friends, a great boyfriend, and a myriad of favorite frequents when it came to bars, restaurants, parks, and all the day and nightlife that Atlanta had to offer.

This was a time in my life in which my “big girl job” was one that took up about 98% of my time, so I didn’t get quite as many moments to enjoy with Sebastian as I would’ve liked. But having been friends since we were 15, we were settled into our relationship in a way where expectations weren’t at the forefront of reality. He was always someone I could be the closest of friends with, even when we couldn’t see each other as much. I think that’s why my stories and memories with Seb are the richest. When time together isn’t frequent, those spurts you do get are gilded with glitter. The kind of glitter we started this all with. The kind that glitzes the brightest, shows up when you least expect it, and sticks around.

We stole the show that night in the bar (and that was something to be proud of because there was also a fantastic drag show going on at the same time). Everyone wanted to dance with us, drink with us, and giggle with us like we were truly the royalty we were portraying. And maybe we were. The snapshots of the night still take up space in my mind all these years later, in glowy, sublime blurs that are always easy for me to catch when I need to.        

The night would end after we closed down the place and were on our walk back home underneath the hazy streetlamps, me taking off my new heels and Sebastian yelling at me that he loved me too much to ever let me walk barefoot through the city.

It was a weird, not-so-easy time to be a 20-something in Atlanta back then. But we sure did drink it all in anyway.