Keeping with Linda Rief’s quickwrite prompt. Today I will write about a trait I don’t admire as much, conformity. I think I will use Rief’s personification prompt with my students during our Spoken Word Poetry unit. (See yesterday’s slice about Adventure.)
Conformity takes a sip from her Starbucks skinny latte as she drives to her favorite spin class. Adele’s, “Rolling in the Deep” streams in through the speakers of her Honda Civic. Conformity’s low ponytail is threaded through the back of her Ralph Lauren baseball cap. She grips both of her hands on the wheel and drives within 5 miles of the speed limit. Always. Today is a good day, she decides. After work she will meet up with her neighborhood girlfriends for wine and a book club discussion of Becoming by Michelle Obama.
“Girl, hold up. I forgot my pass, can you swipe me in on yours?” Peer Pressure shouts out to Conformity before she reaches the gym door.
Conformity gives Peer a forced smile. “Hey, good morning, Peer.” She hesitates, “I…I am not super comfortable with that. Deceit just got herself kicked out of the gym for scamming the check-in last week.”
“Come on, Conformity. It’s not that big of a deal. No one will catch us.” Peer’s voice is half-whine, half syrupy-sweet.
Conformity squints at Peer through her Ray Bans and tucks a strand of blond hair that has fallen out of her ponytail back behind her ear. A nervous habit she developed years back. Her nails, perfectly squared and painted a light pink, coordinate with her matte lips. Conformity’s chest tightens and her voice lowers to a raspy whisper. “I’m super sorry, Peer. Maybe you should go talk to the manager, and see if she will let you into the class for today.” Conformity pauses and looks past Peer to the front door. “I’m going to be late for my spin class. I’m sorry I can’t help you Peer. I’ll see you later, okay.” And with that, Conformity lets out a short sigh, and steps around Peer Pressure to enter the gym.