I've known all of my close friends at least 15 years or more (including Mortal Kombat). My two best friends I met freshman year in high school and that'll be 20 years next Fall. Damn, yo! We're mad old. Well, they're mad old. They got kids and mortgages and junk. I'm a heartbeat away from living in my car. At least she's paid for! From time to time, I reminisce with my girls and boys about when and how we first met. And it's occurred to me, that in virtually every single case, the meeting was pretty damn funny. At least to me. Us. So I've decided to share these stories cause while most of the people I'm fixing to start talking about are followers here, they probably don't know how I met all the others. Or maybe they do. After decades of friendship, I'm sure I've run my mouth about each of them to each other. I like to talk. Haven't you figured that out yet? But this is my tribute to each of them, who in their own way, have kept me sane.
Note: Names, but never places, have been changed to protect the guilty, the innocent, the lame, and the boring. You know who you are.
PART 1: KENDALL
I've know Kendall since freshman year at Spelman. She's also a Jersey girl, like me, from the town neighboring mine. Scotch Plains, or as those who have a deep affinity for it have termed it "Crotch Plains", is a suburban town nestled in the Watchung Mountains of Central NJ, 22 miles from Manhattan and 20 minutes southwest of that cultural NJ mecca, Newark. Kendall came from Plainfield, NJ. Slightly more urban than Crotch Plains. That is to say, there were more negroes running around than in my town. Wasn't always the case as with most cities and towns in this country. Plainfield used to be where the railroad magnates lived and most of those houses still stand today. Although some have been turned into multiple family homes and halfway houses. When my grandparents were kids, Plainfield was a predominantly white town like the other surrounding towns of Westfield, Cranford, and Scotch Plains. And while those other towns kept their racial ratios in tact, Plainfield fell victim to the civil unrest of the late 50's and 60's and its scales tipped overwhelmingly in favor of black citizenry.
Kendall is both uniquely New Jersey and something else too. When she was around high school age, her father was transferred and the family moved from chocolate Plainfield to virtually lily white Kentucky. Yes. KENTUCKY. She said her mother went into culture shock. I can believe it. I don't think it was that bad for Kendall though, cause she wasn't a product of the Plainfield school system and was fortunate enough to attend private schools (although come to think of it, I'm vaguely recalling some instances she relayed to me of some difficulties there. Oh well, moving on). She even went to Mt. St. Mary's in Watchung. A school so well revered, it even has it's own rhyme which is: The girls on the hill will give you a thrill (it sits atop a hill in the midst of the Watchung mountain range and the girls were sorta fast and loose with their clothing, or so the story goes). This was not Kendall, however. She, much like myself, was openly defiant while there even telling me stories of getting in trouble for failing to wear her sweater in the walkway. Her reason for not doing so: "I didn't feel like it". That's my Kendall.
So all of this kinda seems like we were instant friends from day one, right? Wrong! Though we are now very close friends and confidantes, I regarded her with open suspicion and dare I say, derision. I know, I know. I came to tell her this story and reasons why years later, which now is like eight years ago. And it shed a lot of light on things for her she claimed. And then, she burst into uproarious laughter, and now when the story is retold between ourselves, we don't even try to stifle the amusement. Before I tell the tale of how we two came to be united in friendship, let me say this: Kendall was my main drinking buddy at Spelman. We snuck many an alcoholic beverage into the drama department (including jello shots which we enjoyed during rehearsals), and virtually every story I have at school involves liquor and her. I don't know how the hell I graduated. But I was hung over at the ceremony due to some cocktails she made (though my mother was there to enjoy them as well--I learned to drink at home with the best) and had fallen asleep right up until it was time for me to stand and get my paper! This is the real Kendall. But this is how I saw her then:
Freshman year I stayed in Abbey Hall (Abbey Psi Phi) on the second floor in a corner room with two roommates. It was cool. I got along fairly well with both girls, having written both before school started, and even visited one (she lived in Baltimore County which wasn't too far from where my dad lived). Their names were Shania (I don't know any black girls named Shania either but work with me. I'm sure there's one) and Keisha (this is funny cause if you knew the real girl you'd know she's as far from a Keisha as you can get but I can't think of any more names that begin with the letter "K"). Now, Keisha was from Newton, Mass, the daughter of a female preacher. Living with me I'm sure was a test for her. I drank (still do) and curse (still do) without thought or concern. She's born again. And again. Or at least she was back then. A very religious young woman who believed in the tenants and ceremony and traditions of Spelman College. She was also a music major. Keisha could get down and be fun at times, but she was constantly lecturing me about something of religious merit or whatever the hell; which knowing me went in one ear and came out my ass.
Kendall was also a music major at this time, though she would eventually become a drama major like moi. This is how I came to know her, through my religious zealot roommate. It wasn't uncommon for me to return to my room after a hard day of whatever drama shenanigans were going on in the department, (probably watching Professor publicly berate a student, then turn and dress down the faculty member responsible for fill in the blank and that would have us all on edge) wishing for silence and relaxation; only to find a religious meeting going on inside my sanctuary instead. Keisha belonged to an on-campus group called New Life something. It was church stuff. By the by, this isn't my only encounter with these nut balls and I have another story about them that will surface when I discuss another friendship that also began here at Spelman. But back to my story.
So here I am, standing in my room, being engaged by sometimes a group of fanatics who are trying desperately to convert me to their version of Christianity. I, naturally, am not biting. In the beginning of the semester, I'm fairly polite about telling them to leave me alone. By midterms, I'm giving them a chilly response. By Christmas break, those bitches know not to speak to me on the quad and definitely not in my room. Sit there on Keisha's bed and shut the fuck up while I watch New York Undercover with the rest of the heathens.
So it happened one day that I entered my room and Kendall was sitting on Keisha's bed, with Keisha and they were talking. I was annoyed and very chilly in my greeting to both. And here's the other thing about Kendall which is still true today. She's very "silver lining" girl while being all that other stuff that she is. And that's odd to me. Perky people are immediately suspicious to me cause I don't trust that. What the hell do you have to be so happy about? I don't trust people that are never blue. It's unnatural. So my rebuff didn't cause Kendall to react the way I would which would be to curse her out forever and always. She acted like nothing had happened, and genuinely was unfazed. Odd. And odder still, she said goodbye to me when she left. Her voice is a bit higher than mine (which isn't saying much. I have a 976-fuck me voice, or I sound like Bea Arthur take your pick) so with an elevated vocal pitch, and a jolly disposition, she seemed very cult like to me. Which of course is what these New Life people are. And I give cult followers a wide berth, thanks in part to all my Dateline viewing. Nothing good comes from cults.
Now at some point, Keisha and I had a discussion about having these Jesus Freaks alone in our room, cause there were a few times when I'd come back to the spot and one of these heifers would be sitting on her bed...alone. I was like, to hell with that shit. You ain't gone be chillin in here and none of the people who actually live here are here with you. Damn the jokes.
Poor Kendall got lumped up with these New Life cult members because that was my association with my roommate, who was at this time, totally devoted to them. And every time Kendall would see me on campus, she'd wave or say hi and I'd look at that bitch like she drinking arsenic laced Kool-Aid. But she never stopped trying to be nice to me, which made me avoid her all the more. Like, damn, take a hint bitch. I don't like you. You are crazy! Mommy was like, give the girl a chance, and I was like HELL NO! You have to understand, one I'm not down with religious fanaticism in any form. I'm more spiritual (which I know sends waves of laughter through "true" Christians). I believe in God and Jesus. I believe he died for my sins and I believe in Heaven and Hell. But I don't believe in religion. Religion twists things and gets normal thinking people to do incredulous things. Like fly planes into buildings. So trying to talk to people who are constantly telling me I'm wrong and I will face the reckoning, and I'm being blasphemous (which I'm sure I was cause at the time I wasn't even baptised which was a bone of contention to them as well) and yada yada yada was pushing me past my boiling point. This was an ongoing thing; like they felt they had to fight for my soul. I've come to realize in later years that they weren't being malicious and were fairly decent people. But they were in over drive with this shit and their earnestness was wearing on my good nature and welcoming demeanor. Needless to say, I unleashed full unadulterated Jersey on their asses till, like I said, they knew not to even speak to my black ass. Jersey girls know what I mean.
This is the climate in which I met Kendall and the lense through which I viewed her. She was the enemy. Another New Life automaton ready to lead me to salvation. Fast forward two years later, and we're both standing in front of the call board in the drama department. She had just changed majors. I recognized her and was immediately trying to find a way out of having to talk to her. Again, she was all bubbly and smiling, polite and kind. What the fuck? Don't trust it. That's some Jonestown shit. But something told me to be cool that day and get out of any impending discussion as quickly (and politely) as you can. Polite was gonna be a stretch. But I tried. So sure enough, Kendall was all, "Hi Diva77". And I'm all, "Hey" (as lacklusterly as possible. Maybe she'll get the hint and leave me the fuck alone). We exchange small talk...the bare minimum. And she's talking about being from Plainfield, and I'm all like, "Oh cool." And she's like "blah blah blah, something something something, we should get a drink." Ding! The magic word. Did she say drink? As in alcohol? As in one of my favorite things! Wait, isn't she a New Life Jesus Freak? What does she know about liquor?
Just like today sex is my ruination, back then it was alcohol. Liquor to be exact. We started talking about our favorite drinks and then suddenly I wanted to know what she doing on my side of the building (music and drama departments shared a building) and she told me. And where had she been for the past few semesters, Orlando at Disney working as one of their college interns. What do you like to drink and how quickly can we make this happen? And the rest, as they say, is history. Guess I shoulda been more open minded earlier but I don't think it would have made a big difference. We're still really close to this day, so obviously we were meant to be friends. And I'm of the opinion now that things happen when they're supposed to so I don't regret being a bitch to her back then. It gives us something to laugh about now. Love you Kendall. You know who you are.
Till next time, lovers!
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