Sunday, November 15, 2009
If BFF asks for something, I do it. So when BFF asked for a Storytime Countdown until I visit for New Moon, I was only happy to oblige. We're pretty funny, so I think everyone will enjoy it. If not, well, too bad. It's my blog and I'll post what I want.
Sooooo.... Storytime! We'll start at the beginning- the day BFF and I first met.
Imagine a tender, innocent Birv (Well. More innocent than I am now, anyway. Shut up! Why are you laughing?), her parents just having left after moving her into the dorm. My college fantasy of giggle-filled, slumber party nights with a popular, bouncy ponytailed, cheerleader-type roommate to bring me out of my cynical shell had just been dashed when my roommate Nancy showed up to our room (toting only two laundry bags of clothes and full-size fridge, by the by), and I honestly thought she was her brother. "Oh hey, you must be with Nancy. Aren't you a nice brother to bring that fridge up here?" "I AM Nancy." "oh...." (Not sure where my fantasy came from, as I knew that my alma mater was a gay haven from the college visit. My hag training started EARLY). Anyway, after a brief introduction, Nancy went off- and I'm not making any sort of stereotype joke, I swear to god it's true- to her very first softball practice, and I was left in my room alone.
Webster has some decent dorms- rather than have communal showers in the halls, the rooms are set up suite-style, with two rooms to a bathroom. Not to get overly familiar, but you know how when you're traveling, you're digestion gets a little... off? Well. The time comes for me. I gotta go. I had seen the blonde girl next door moving in with her parents, but, being too shy to do any more than wave, I hadn't spoken to her yet. But her door to the bathroom is open.
Seriously? This is my introduction? Awesome. But... I GOTTA GO. So I can either slam the door in her face without any explanation, or I can tell her why I'm closing the door. My thought process? How bitchy is that girl that just shut the door for no reason?! So the first words I ever speak to BFF are these: "I'm really sorry, and I want to make sure that you know that it's not because I don't want to get to know you, but I'm closing your bathroom door. Because, well, I have to go poop." (Yes, I'm a master of the overshare.)
The reason I know BFF and I were meant to be BFF's? Her response: "I'm so glad you're the first to poop here, because I didn't want it to have to be me!"