Can't Hold Us Down

Sometimes, (often…very often) Britt and I find ourselves in situations in which the universe appears to be testing us; our strength, our wits, and our cunning. Last Sunday, we were put in a situation from which we thought we may never return. And it happened while we were taking these photos. Britt came over to the casa, business as usual, and inquired, “So what’s our location?” “How about we go over to ETHS?" That would be El Toro High School…our alma mater. It’s close by and we’ll be in and out in 10 minutes flat so we can go get ourselves some tacos and beer. Or so we thought…

When we arrived the campus was open, so naturally we drove right in and parked it next to the boys locker room where we started snapping away. I was serving body and face (as always) when suddenly I was distracted by calls of distress coming from what seemed to be a biker gang lurking outside of the campus. “Hey! Help us!” they called.

So we ran to their rescue only to discover they simply needed to retrieve an MMA hoodie they had left behind. Crisis averted, for now. Ok so we’re snapping Britt now and she’s twerking it and then we call it a wrap…time for the Cinco De Mayo celebration! So we hop in my lil Jetta and cruise across campus to our exit gate…LOCKED. The gate is locked. Ok so we don’t panic…we cruise it over past the lunch tables, past the History building to exit via the other gate. LOCKED. Oooook…the back gate! Surely that back gate is open! So we mob it across campus and sloooowly drive up this long-ass ramp that was definitely meant for wheelchairs and NOT mid-sized sedans. And the gate. Is. Locked. We are trapped on our high school campus. TRAPPED. IN OUR HIGH SCHOOL. It’s go time, bitches.

Britt tried to pick the locks with her bobby pin…but to no avail. We tried to find one of those “S” shaped chain links cuz those are a cinch to get through, but there weren’t any of those either. “Dude, we have to call the police to get us out of here!” Britt shouted at me, “Or at least call Dad to bring us some metal chopping tools or something!” In our state of panic, we also wrestled with the idea of straight steady mobbing the fence down, but decided that would be unnecessarily destructive…and a tad dramatic. And then I remembered, that there is a gate that exists; a 4th gate that may offer hope. So we got in my car, drove past the auxiliary gym, up another wheelchair ramp, onto the baseball field, across the baseball field, around the track, and into a small parking lot that’s for like, sports people. And that’s when we saw it: our salvation. A janky old fence that stood no chance against Britt and I. (JK, in our escape we snapped Britt’s house key in half AND her car key.)We poked and prodded and pushed and pulled and got that fence down…PWNAGE. I drove off the curb, nearly ran over Britt’s stiletto-clad foot, and then we neatly placed the fence back where it belonged. The end. Can’t hold us down.

Thrifted vest. Topshop crop top. Vintage skirt. Nike kicks.

Until next time,

Chelsea

PS- Pigtails are my new obsession. I'm in a Baby Spice phase.