From Emily Greenquist: "Adults Wear Heeled Clogs and Rum Raisin"

I once secretly wore my sister’s black heeled clogs and Rum Raisin lipstick to buy cigarettes at a vending machine in a local Applebee’s. Not old enough to drive, I carefully timed the 43-minute bus ride to just after the restaurant opened, but I didn’t account for the bus driver suddenly stopping mid-ride, leaving me alone, and locking the door for an unspecified reason and for an unspecified amount of time. Alert to suspicion, I kept my posturing. This was a test. This was a test given to adults to test their adulthood. If I kept still and if she returned, she would see me unphased, an average adult accustomed to everyday un-accompaniment. She would recognize well-chosen blind date attire or attire of a grown woman simply running midday errands, unhurried by aloneness or scheduled crime. I counted my change, enough for two packs. I counted my change, enough for an adult to casually purchase two packs of cigarettes at a conveniently happened-upon vending machine. I counted my change enough times until the driver finally returned, started the bus, and gave me a nod.