Thursday, December 22, 2005


“We have to talk about how your friends treat my friends.”

When Juan said this to his then-girlfriend—my wrestling buddy and good friend—Jackie he wasn’t kidding around. And I’ll admit that for once he was completely right. In that one night I slapped one of his fraternity brothers and Lil Bit pulled down the pants of another, grabbed his butt and declared, “I own you!” It was a bachelor’s auction. We got excited…

OK, so sometimes my hostility has been misdirected. Which reminds me of the movie “Empire Records.”

“What’s up with the hostility Warren?”

“Stop calling me Warren! My name’s not fuckin Warren!”

For instance the first week of sophomore year I bitched out Kungpow-Kicka who had come to townhouse 241 to make peace for his friend that had just shoved my amiga to the ground. This was an all-time great Bridget-moment. Freshman year I was seen as the quiet, sweet girl and this was the first time I showcased my wildly bad temper in Blacksburg, VA. While the night’s hostility may not have been directed towards Kungpow-Kicka I was going to give the next idiot with a penis a piece of my mind.

On more than one occasion through the college years Juan said to me, “You are so mean to boys.”

Unfortunately, this is not something I can deny.

Like the time I tried to punch my ex-boyfriend because he wouldn’t kiss me. Or the night I made a guy leave my party because he was hitting on my little sister.

I’m not sure when this hostility started, but I have early memories of taunting boys. In preschool we had to hold hands in line, I usually went for my b/f James, but remember getting this mean boy and squeezing his hand really hard to hurt him. (Hey! He was doing it back to me!)

But the meanest thing I ever did to a boy was in first grade. I chased Anthony-from-Kindergarten around the playground trying to kiss him. Gross!


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