"And God Said, 'LET THERE BE LIPS!'"

The best way I know how to talk about how to be a good friend is in the narrative by telling you about my best friend. I do not want to do the third grade thing and determine who is whose best friend, who is the most valued or whatever because that is silly. For the sake of this piece, let us call her Samantha.

I first met Samantha at the Rocky Horror Picture Show in the 90’s (I will not specify the year to protect both our ages). I was a freshman in college and she was still in high school. I had never been, a Rocky “virgin” and she was an old pro. We donned fishnets, high heels we had yet to learn to walk in and too short skirts that we would have never worn in actual “public.” I remember Rocky being fun, but the most fun part of the evening was dressing up and putting on makeup with the other girls. Kind of like prom, the getting ready was more fun than the actual event. But Rocky turned out to be WAY more fun than prom. I remember giggling and squealing in girlish joy as we teased out our hair and put on way more than the legal limit of eyeliner. I had never worn eye liner before let alone lipstick. I remember being so excited to show a bit of my sexy side that I did not know I had in such a safe and fun environment. We were dressing up for each other and for the show, not to get some “guy” to notice us. I know Samantha and I were both virgins. We were way too young and rather innocent. Putting on a push up bra and donning those fishnets did more to express our sexuality than any silly boy could ever do. Woman’s toes in heels can do more for own sense of sexiness than having those toes in the air.

What is not fun about this?

Samantha was a very cute girl, still is. At the time she was of average height to a little short, a bit on the chubby side of a typical waify teenager and had knock out curves. Basically, she was built like a porn star. She had long tapering legs, a little waist and was rather busty. I am not saying that as a slam, I am just retelling how I remember it. She had this very sexy body with just the cutest, sweetest face, nice smile, gentle eyes, and a great personality. For the record I said “chubby” but she really was not. She just was not rail thin like other high school girls and had the curves of a woman but really the spirit of sweet, funny girl. She was vibrant, confident, cute, generous, and everyone loved her. She was a bit nerdy, God love her, so she was not “popular” but everyone liked her. There is a difference. I hypothesize that because of her curves she was self-conscious and therefore did not act overtly sexual, but was rather quick with a dirty joke. Because she was so sweet yet sexy, her dirty jokes were that much funnier. Did I mention she was funny? She is still to this day hilarious. When we would hang out, even when I did stand-up comedy for awhile, I was the “witty, clever” one but Samantha was actually funny. Effortlessly funny.

Maybe we thought it was going to be like this, but not really. Hugging a bunch of people in our undies is way better, and less scary, than actual sex for the sweet young things we were at the time.

There were a few other girls and a few that reluctantly came along. There was my friend and her boyfriend who were friends of Samantha from high school, a few other girls from our college choir and three guys from a predominantly boys engineering school. One guy complained the whole time, one guy I am sure was gay, and the third caught on to what was going on and thought it was fantastic. This third guy figured out that these otherwise sweet little “choir girls” were dressing up sexy and acting all flirty and he got to watch. He was a big nerd so he had probably not seen that much leg or cleavage that was not in jpeg form. The complainer and the gay guy were in the front seat probably talking about this new “inter-web” thing while the third guy volunteered to sit in the backseat between two buxom babes who just moments ago were about as nerdy as he was. Ah, the transformative powers of eye liner.

Maybe he thought it would be like this...only hoping he would not have to wear women's underwear to cop a feel.

Later that year in the spring, I went to Samantha’s mother’s house for a bachorlette party for the girl and her boyfriend who knocked her up. On a positive note, the couple is still together and she just graduated with a nursing degree. I remember how weird a bachorlette party for teenage girls really was. I was at the party and thought it was weird. We were not old enough to drink. I think a few of us were old enough to purchase porn if we wanted to, but it was not like we could watch it in Samantha’s mother’s living room. I was acutely aware that this was to be my last slumber party. I will have to address that at a later point.

Because I am about at my word limit for a “readable” blog entry I will sum up the rest and continue the narrative in later posts.

We went to different colleges; I graduated two years before her, got married, and then moved away. Through a series of circumstances, or perhaps divine intervention, our paths crossed again and we ended up living in the same city. We were in our mid to late twenties, both married and we both worked at the same school. She was special education and I taught English. I am not saying this to be self deprecating or flattering, but she was a better teacher than I was. Similar to how I was clever but she was funny I was a good instructor in how I came up with lesson plans and great material the actual teaching and classroom environment made me incredibly anxious and it affected my affectedness. Samantha is a natural teacher, especially with kids with special needs. People saw this as being very “patient” but is was more than that. She really understood kids and helped them reach their potential. She was able to break material down into little palatable pieces that helped kids learn and grow. I greatly admire that in her.

She has two kids now and is a stay-at-home mom. I am a childless divorcee’ out in the work and dating world again. We have different lifestyles, but besides all the time and distance I know I can count on her to tell me the truth, keep my secrets, and lovingly without judging me call me on my crap. I hope I can be even close to as good a friend for her as she has been for me.


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Alex Anderson
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