Dear Cigarette,
We’ve been friends for a long time haven’t we? In fact, there have been moments when I felt like you were my only friend. No one is ever quite there for me the way that you are. When I am bored, you occupy my mind. When I am sad, you give me a lift. When I feel overwhelmed at a social engagement, you give me reason to step outside and regain my composure. Heck, sometimes you give me a reason to stand outside all night. You help me keep my weight down and at times give me an air of mystery or encourage my sense of rebellion.
The other night I sat down to figure out how long we’ve been together, and did you realize that this fall will be our 15th anniversary? Yep, I don’t know the exact date, but just fifteen little years ago I was set-up for a date. After rush each fall, all the fraternities had this party called pledge-line which were supposedly for the new pledges but everybody attended them. I was a sophomore, a pudgy little sophomore who for some bizarre reason gained forty pounds for college and only college. Blame it on the beer except that at that point, I didn’t drink quite yet. No at that point my forty pounds came from bagels and ice cream and insecurity and awkwardness. College was a little overwhelming for me since I’d never really been a social person with friends and stuff like that. No parties. No proms. No dates. No drinks. Oh, sorority rush was hideous. Six hours of small talk for the gal who couldn’t do (and didn’t even like or understand at the time) small talk. I came home at the end of every day and cried.
Yech! But oh wait, my ciggies, we were discussing the birth of our friendship. My date ditched me about ten minutes into the evening. Although it had never happened to me before (because, come to think it, I’m not sure I’d been on a date before) I sensed it was coming. It was in his face when he laid eyes on me, a look of utter disappointment. We got to the party, he handed me a drink, and then disappeared. I stood on the edge of the dance floor where he left me for about ten minutes. When I realized that he wasn’t going to return, I felt the need to flee the area and ran outside.
Finding myself on the back porch, I took a seat and hoped that someone I knew would pass by. I still wasn’t sure if it would be rude of me to leave and walk a mile home in my heels.
“HEY! Who are you?” a voice asked.
I looked up to find a tall dark-haired girl whispering in a gossip-like fashion with two other girls. Quietly I explained who I was and what I doing there.
“OMIGOD, SO-AND-SO IS SUCH A PRICK! I CAN’T BELIEVE WE LET HIM THROUGH. FRIEND OF A FRIEND THING, YOU KNOW AND SOME KIND OF BALONEY ABOUT HIS DAD WORKING FOR SUCH-AND-SUCH. BUT MAN IS THAT GUY A PRICK! THAT’S WHY HE HAD TO HAVE A BLIND SET-UP, YOU KNOW? BECAUSE NO GIRL THAT HE KNOWS WOULD GO WITH HIM AND NONE OF US WOULD SET HIM UP. THAT’S FOR SURE. AW, BABE. I’M SORRY, REALLY SORRY. THAT GUY’S A PRICK. NEXT TIME I SEE HIM, I’M GOING TO KICK HIS ASS.”
I don’t remember her name, but she stood very confidently waving her cigarette in the air as she spoke to me loudly and forcefully. She dated one of the guys in the fraternity off-and-on. Currently they were off, but because she was a member of the ‘little sisters’ she could attend every event anyway. She insisted that I spend the rest of the evening with her and her friends, taking the beer can in my hand and trading it out for something stronger. She also handed me a smoke, and for the first time, I didn’t turn it down.
That night wasn’t my just my first cigarette. It was the first time I got drunk, and emboldened by Miss Queen Bee, I strutted around the house saying whatever I wanted to whomever I wanted. And you know what the weird thing was? People thought I was funny. Probably because I am decently quick-witted, but I’d always been so nervous around (real, live)people. The four of us managed to have a keen old time as well as embarrass and belittle the heck out of my date. When I decided I was ready to leave, one of the older guys tracked him down and insisted that he drive me home.
I said that I’d rather walk barefoot, and I think the older guy ended up driving me. I never saw any of them again, but the foundation had been laid.
However, dear cigarettes, I find myself a little tired, and we will have to continue this letter another day…
Sunday, March 22, 2009
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10 comments:
Fifteen years, huh? What exactly does one do to celebrate such an occasion? 60,000 mile checkup? Start knitting an oxygen tank cover in anticipation? ;) Just giving you shit. Looking forward to seeing where this particular letter is leading...
Reminds me of my first handful of frat parties
Great story. One of my favorites in a while.
Here's my burning question, though: Were you actually in a sorority? Why would you rush if it was that awful?
You know, CM. I actually started to write about that last night and then stopped because it would cause the post to go on for too long.
In reality, I dropped out of rush - BUT I was what they call a Snap-Bid. Each sorority can only extend bids to a certain number of girls each year. This keeps the number of girls in each group even - ie, one sorority won't be huge and all the others wilt away.
However, inevitably, a handful of girls drop out in the first week or fewer bids are accepted than anticipated, etc.
So, I got a call a few weeks into school from one of the sororities (who by the way, um, CUT ME during the initial process) asking me to come by their house and reconsider them.
It was very casual and non-threatening and limited in overwhelming social interaction (insofar as I wasn't greeted by 150+ girls at one time)...so I ended up joining.
And people still look at me sideways when they find out that I was in a sorority...
I personally am still up in the air as to how I feel about the whole thing. It has its good and its bad points, but a lot of the stereotypes are completely true.
Oh and PS - As for why I would rush in the first place? My mother made me.
Which is ironic given that my mother ALSO dropped out of rush.
And wouldn't you know, she went through rush because my grandmother WAS in a sorority and wanted my mother to do it too?
i like that you commented not once, not twice, but four times in a row to your own story. with no prompting.
Yes...it was for effect. (Notice that all comments occur within a four minute span.)
I get the sideways look when I tell people I was in a fraternity. Pledging was actually kind of fun in an awful kind of way. After my pledge semester I went abroad for a year. When I came back, I realized that actually being a regular member of the frat kinda sucked. So I deactivated and moved out after about 2 months.
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