NO LONGER THERE

STRAND THREE

#AVERYFORREAL #BLACKHAIRMATTERS

I hit the Starbucks first.

Before hopping on 1-35 for the three and a half hour ride, I needed coffee and headed to Starbucks. The one where Roxy works.

I made into the drive-thru line right before they shut off the light, and the girl who took my order sounded pissed. I understood, but unlike me, she wanted to go home. When I made it to the window, both of our faces were twisted like our tongues had been replaced by lemons.

At first, she didn't even try being friendly. No worries, I wasn't feeling conversational anyway. Then, she took my card. I handed her my UT Austin bank card and she glanced at my name, twice.

"Avery Reed?"

Didn't I just say she looked at my bank card... twice?

"Yes," I replied. "I can show you my driver's license if you need to verify my identity."

Grinning, she ignored me.

"Shannon, come here." She waved.

Shannon, I guess, walked up. They whispered. This Shannon character squinted, then ducked her head down to stare into my car.

Growing impatient, I probed, "Is there something I need to know?"

They both snickered. Shannon walked away. Little Miss Split Personality returned my card.

"You didn't slide it," I reminded her.

"No charge," she said, grinning again.

Apparently Shannon was making my now 'no charge' hot, venti Caramel Macchiato with extra drizzle because she appeared out of nowhere like a damned leprechaun with it in her hand. Perplexed, but eager to get going, I reached for it, and Shannon paused with her skinny little arm just inside the drive-thru window.

"You're Roxanne's roommate aren't you?"

"Yes," I answered, not understanding why that question freaked me out a little.

Shannon turned back inside, with my 'no charge' hot, venti Caramel Macchiato with extra drizzle in her puny little hand and shouted, "I told ya'll it was her."

Who is 'her' and why was it a question that needed to be answered?

"She didn't slide my card. Do you want it back?"

"Nope, it's free," Shannon claimed.

My brain screamed, "Then why are you holding it hostage, Shannon?"

My mouth said, "Thank you. May I have it please?"

It had to be lukewarm by now.

Shannon grinned. Little Miss Spilt Personality showed back up with her cell phone in her hand, then two additional strange acting Starbucks employee's crowded the tiny drive-thru window. And Shannon still had my  now, 'allegedly free,' lukewarm, venti Caramel Macchiato with extra drizzle in her damned hand. The Texas Charm Goddesses and Lillian's home training had to work overtime. I smiled. They grinned. No coffee. Damn.

"Is this a prank?" I asked. At that point, it was the only thing that made sense.

Shannon, the coffee pirate, spoke for everyone. "No, ma'am, we just wanted to see your hair."

I had to remember, Roxy worked there. Now the craziness made sense. I glanced at the time, 10:15pm. It would almost be 2 am before I made it home. I wanted to refuse. Screw the 'allegedly free,' possibly lukewarm, venti Caramel Macchiato with extra drizzle, but they looked so excited... about hair.  So, I placed my car in park, reached up and unwrapped the hair-tie.

My jet-black hair dropped, tickling me from my neck down to the bend in my back. Their eyes were so wide, you would have sworn they saw a Black unicorn. Little Miss Spilt Personality started a live feed on Facebook. The other two videoed in their Instagram stories and Shannon STILL had my 'allegedly free,' now for sure lukewarm, venti Caramel Macchiato with extra drizzle in her puny little hand.

One of the weird acting Starbucks employee asked. "Can you get out so we can see how long it is?"

Running short on tolerance and witty nicknames, I just named that one, Thing One, and smiled. I eased the car just beyond the drive-thru window and stepped out into the night. I was there for an hour. Tired as hell, anxious about the call, dreading the drive home, talking to four skinny little Black teenaged girls about... hair.

They liked my social media pages, showed me all the likes their videos of my hair received and explained why they believed, 'good hair,' 'real hair,'  like mine was such big deal. Before my time with them ended, we laughed, cried, challenged a few misconceptions and had a slightly better understanding of the Black hair issues we knew about in our lives and communities. It was eye opening and wonderful.

Little Miss Split Personality attached #averyreedforreal  and #blackhairmatters to our pictures and videos. She had a thousand views before we left and suddenly, I had fans. All I wanted was a hot, venti Caramel Macchiato with extra drizzle. I never got it. At least Shannon apologized about the coffee.