the friend i once had

In kindergarten I was really popular with the boys. One, a Jeffrey (not Jeff), was so enamoured by me that he would give me whatever toys he could find lying around his house, whatever would fit into his miniscule backpack and was small enough that his mom wouldn't notice and get upset. Jeffrey loaded me up with crap. None of it was especially necessary (a dog-chewed rubber ball, anyone?) and there seemed to be a lack of emotion behind each thing he gave me.

Don't get me wrong; I was flattered by the attention. I mean, what rational 4 1/2 year old wouldn't be? It was dizzying. But I was a woman scorned because, despite all his tangible signs of affection, Jeffrey proved what a mama's boy he was. He wouldn't invite me to his birthday party.

It wasn't like I would have been the only girl. A girl up the street from his house was invited. I think she sabotaged me, talked Jeffrey's mother into cutting me from the invite list. All I know is that my older brother (who was friends with Jeffrey's older brothers; they went through Cubs and Scouts together) was invited and I wasn't. His coffin was sealed.

From that point on I don't remember talking to Jeffrey again. I avoided him at figure skating, and in the Skating Fiesta '78 when we were supposed to pose beside each other for pictures (we were both lions) I made a point of leaning away from him so he would know I meant business, marking my scorn for all eternity in a photograph.

But Jeffrey wasn't really my friend. My friend was Leo, the kid with the glandular problem, who salivated so much that he had to carry a towel around with him. There was nothing wrong with Leo, save for the river of spit that dripped from his mouth constantly. I found this amusing. Others were repulsed. Being friends in kindergarten meant you sat beside each other during craft time and maybe ran around in circles on the playground during break. I sat beside Leo a lot.

Now that I think about it, maybe that was because Leo didn't really talk. When he did he would spit gallons towards whomever was closest. I talked a lot. My kindergarten teacher must have really hated me. Oh, wait, she did. "Karen is a selfish child who always wants her own way, even when that is not always possible." Who writes that about a 4 1/2 year old?! A psycho, that's who.

Thanks, Mrs. Potter, for being a bitch.

Currently listening :
Nouvelle
By Club 8
Release date: 19 February, 2004