In the past 20 years of our friendship, I have put Bethany through the ringer a few times. I wonder how she is still friends with me after some of the events I’ve made her do alongside me. Here’s some highlights.
It was circa age 10 or 11 when I decided to give Bethany a makeover. At that age, having never worn makeup, I was an expert. I owned a bottle of sparkly nail polish that I loved and wore constantly. I thought it would look great on Bethany’s eyebrows. I painted her eyebrows with nail polish. They looked fantastic. And slick. And sparkly. Pink and purple and blue sparkles all up in her eyebrows, coating them like little sticky gemstones. I don’t remember how long it took Bethany’s mom to remove said nail polish from her eyebrows but needless to say, it was not easy nor painless, and I am not currently pursuing a professional cosmetology career.
I actually think the next event may have been that same day but I can’t be sure. We were playing some sort of version of Truth or Dare and we were eating things in one of my kitchen cabinets. We were combining things like maple syrup and vanilla extract until I found a bottle of Tabasco sauce. I told Bethany to close her eyes and poured it into her mouth. Again, having never had Tabasco sauce, I was an expert on its flavor. It took many cups of water to take the fire out of her mouth.
Several years ago, Bethany was visiting me in New York. I was dating a boy that I worked with at the time, let’s call him Server Boy. Server Boy and his room-mate, Needs a Girlfriend, had offered to take us out dancing. The evening was going extremely well except Needs a Girlfriend had taken a liking to Bethany and she had just entered into a relationship back in Boston. She also was just not interested. Needs a Girlfriend got a little miffed with me because he thought I invited him to go with us so he could get laid. I actually didn’t invite him to go with us, Server Boy did and I never once promised Bethany to him in exchange for his company. It was merely good fortune he kept buying her drinks all night. Well, misfortune on his part, bonus on hers. We had ventured to several bars including one with incredibly cheap shots when we finally discovered the best dance spot I’ve ever been to and have never been since because I can not recall the location and name. Server Boy was dancing with Bethany and I was dancing with Needs A Girlfriend. He was grinding very closely to me and by very closely I mean I was feeling things that should not have been…at attention…at that time. He told me he thought I was hot and how hot Bethany was and how stupid Server Boy was for seeing Thighs* (This may seem cruel but the girl had fat thighs and was not a nice person in any sense so I’m allowed this one). I knew Thighs from where we all worked at the time. She was a known flirt but I would never have considered her competition. Plus, according to my current status, Server Boy and I were exclusive. I asked what that meant. Needs a Girlfriend told me Server Boy had been seeing Thighs for a few weeks and she had been spending the night at his place on nights he wasn’t with me. Now, I know Needs a Girlfriend did this maliciously because he was not getting laid that night so why should I? Now here’s the part where Bethany should hate me:
I confronted Server Boy at the club. He said we’d talk about it more back at his place. We went back to his place. I was drunk and got extremely upset and thought it best to talk in his room, leaving Bethany alone, on the couch, with Needs. I told her it would be a few minutes and then we’d go. Over an hour or so later, I emerged. Bethany had called my phone, texted, and knocked on the door, begging to leave. I had made her stay and wait for me. Needs had offered her the couch (which was beyond disgusting) to sleep on or in his bed…with him. She didn’t speak to me until the next morning and rightfully so. I made her sit on the world’s worst couch with the most desperate drunk boy in NYC with a Dungeons and Dragons game laid out on the coffee table and no source of distraction aside from my pleas and sobs from the room next door. Gold star for friendship goes to Bethany.
This story will get its own blog entry but until then, here’s the part where Bethany again should hate me. We had gone to Six Flags for the day with some of my exboyfriend’s friends. He was supposed to come with us but canceled (I found out because of his new girlfriend who he had been cheating on me with). At the time, we were broken up and I thought it was a great idea to spend the night at his house after the park so that we didn’t have to drive back so late to Vermont. We had a great day at the park with the boys. We got back to Film Camp’s house and all hell broke loose. The main incident was that Alia’s car was broken into. I still am shocked how this happened because the house is in a neighborhood far from the main street and Alia’s car was sitting right in front of the house and we were all in the garage about 80 feet from the car. Whoever it was stole all our food and Bethany’s disposable camera, CDs, and her purse featuring her wallet and cell phone. My purse and Alia’s purse remained untouched, out in the open in the front seats. Bethany was the only one actually affected by this robbery minus the fact our OCPs (oatmeal cream pies) went missing. I guess the fortunate part was that we were just out of high school so we didn’t have tons of major credit cards and cash on us? Nope. Still unfortunate every way you look at it.
We used to catch salamanders in Bethany’s backyard. I am almost 100% that this was my idea because one of the first times we did it, I made her climb down into a muddy ravine in new boots and khaki pants to catch them with me. I’m not sure how Bethany’s mom still likes me.
Supervised by Bethany’s babysitter, we discovered a mother cat and her kitten in the woods. They were both black and the kitten was fairly small, probably only a few weeks. Being the savor I am, I decided to save the kitten and take him home. My mother would not allow this so Bethany’s babysitter adopted him and named him Simba. Somehow, although she was plotting it, the mother cat did not attack us and rip our faces off. It still breaks my heart to think of her following us most of the way home. I’m not sure what possessed me to take the kitten from his mother and not the mother as well. But Simba had claws and teeth and was not shy about using them. I basically could have given us all rabies, lice, mites, worms, who knows what else feral cats carried in the 90’s. Again, AMAZING idea.
So there are some examples of why I should probably buy Bethany a diamond ring and a brand new luxury vehicle because somehow, she’s remained my friend in spite of all the unfortunate pickles I seem to put us in. In other words, all the dumb shit I make her do with me.