Note I don't talk about what school I go to on my personal blog - anonymity - so Mason Day I just explain the premise of without naming.
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What happened last night? WELL YOU MIGHT ASK.
I was wandering around doing Chinese study WHEN SUDDENLY. It was sort of a field day thing for my school, in a parking lot! Complete with carnival rides, loud rock music, cotton candy, etc. I wandered around alone for a while, iffy about the long lines, meeting one or two people I knew.
And then ... I saw the henna stand.
There was one guy, with four chairs. He had a bag of henna tubes next to him on the table, and a box of cookies - probably for attractors - and was hennaing people. I watched for a bit. His patterns were very mediocre: it looked like his drawing skills were about at third-grade level. butterflies that looked like demented dogwood flowers. Loopy lotuses. All that.
I didn't want my henna done by a guy who drew like that, but oh boy did I want henna done. So I asked, "you mind if I borrow a tube and do my own?" he jsut nodded and went on drawing.
So I did. I put my stuff in one empty chair, grabbed a tube, and started hennaing.

I was absorbed in hennaing when a group of girls came up to my side of the table. "Are you open?" they asked.
I looked up. "?" and then, "oh, well I just sat down and started..."
"Can you do henna for us?"
I made a face, then looked over at the guy. He looked at the girls, looked at me, shrugged, and nodded.
"Okay," I told 'em.
After that, I became a second line. Matter of fact, I was more popular than the guy - people were coming over from his line to mine. They'd look over my shoulder - "oh, cool! guys, lookat her patterns!" and then move their friends over from his line to mine. One girl had hers done with me, while her friend's was done by the guy. "Lookat this," she pointed, "I don't even know what this is. Is it like some kinda Christmas tree?"

I was there from 6.00ish until when we ran out of henna - three hours later. There were all kinds of people - sorority girls, fraternity guys, an Indian family, a bunch of black girls who kept telling their friends to come over to my side. The only thing I regret is not taking pictures of what I henna'd - I did requests and all sorts of things, reaching from lotus patterns to leaf-patterns to lettering to LIVESTRONG to little feet on a person's ankle. You see that leaf pattern up there? A tall black girl wanted it "tattooed on her navel". She laughed about it, but when I was drawing she kept entirely still; that was the hardest one to draw, since I didn't have anything to rest my hand on and the henna tube in my hand was leaking.
I henna'd until past dark - until we ran all the way out of henna. The very last people to come up were two guys. I showed then the empty tubes and said, "sorry, we're out."
"Aw, can't you do, like, just one letter?"
There was enough henna for that. "What letter?"
"Right here," said one of them, pointing to his forearm. "Can you write, B?"
I obliged.
"So you want 'A'?" I asked the next guy. He laughed and nodded.


