Riot Grrrl
I wanted to be like my sister, wear thrift store clothes bulleted with holes I could mend with safety pins, make chain necklaces from soda tabs, pour packets of cherry Kool-Aid into shampoo bottles and dye my hair.
We jumped on the unmade bed in her room, a shrine of posters anchored to the wall with scotch tape: The Raincoats, Babes In Toyland, Bikini Kill, and Kim Gordon, all flapping against the wall.
They used to all be of Brad Pitt and Luke Perry until she went to an L7 show.
Phrases written in white-out on her combat boots like “No Gag Can Handle My Mouth” and “Take UR Boot Off My Neck”. I couldn’t be her, but I used what I had at my disposal.
I took an undershirt from my school uniform drawer, wrote in black sharpie “Girls Needs Riots Not Diets” landing myself in detention, which paid off when she picked me up in her clunker mobile, high-fiving me outside in front of everyone, the sound of chainsaw guitars tearing through her stereo.
We retreated to her room, Dad’s footsteps thumped closer down the hall. There was a time he’d walk in unannounced, expecting to catch her with boys or drugs. I thought for sure he’d spoken with the principle, but he knocked, asking how to grill our steaks.
My sister said she no longer ate meat, and I said as of that day, neither did I.
Guy Cramer is a healthcare worker from the Ark-La-Tex region. He has recent work in Six Sentences, Citywide Lunch, DUMBO, and BULL Lit (forthcoming). He is on Instagram: guy.cramer
See more of his work in 13.4