Tuesday, April 7, 2009
The Chola truth
Somebody asked me today why I like cholas so much. Well, see, there is a soft spot in my heart for cholas and their sharpie eyebrows. I had a chola friend in high school who once came up to me and said "if anybody messes with you, I've got your back." I have never forgotten that. Next thing I knew all her chola friends knew I was alright and soon it appeared as if I had a brigade of cholas at my disposition if need be. Please, don't think they were literally "at my disposition." Hardcore cholas don't roll like that. But it felt good to know I had them behind me "just in case." Just-in-case never happened and that kind of sucks because it was like having a resource I never utilized. I hate waste.
They were not the kind of cholas who spent hours in the mirror taking pictures with their cell phones. Nah, that wasn't them. Their sharpie eyebrows took them a minute and there was something genuine about them. They were the kind of people who would not only tell you that "yes, your butt does look big in those jeans," they would also tell you the shirt you are wearing is 3 sizes too small, that your lonjas were exposed and unless you wanted to make the school puke, you better put that shiz away and that nobody wanted to suffocate on your freakin Dolce & Gabanna Light Blue knockoff (Seriously, I witnessed them saying that to a girl, verbatim). Homegirl had it coming, you don't cross the cholas and leave unharmed.
The thing is, they weren't trying to impress you. They had no necessity to please you. They were who they were and nothing else mattered. You wanted the truth, you would go to a chola, because she's not going to lie to you. Hurt feelings are not something very high on their list of priorities, and that freakin rocked.
Bottom line, I have a thing for eyebrows and chola eyebrows fascinate me. Secondly, the cholas have been nothing but good friends to me and I have nothing against them, and while I may not categorized them in the most reputable of levels, I choose not to categorize them at all. I met a couple of rotten ones, but there's rotten apples everywhere. The cholas I met were good people, maybe not math geniuses, or class presidents, or the best athletes. But they were GOOD PEOPLE, and good people are hard to find.