[I know that half of this post is in bold face. Wordpress has screwed something up and I’m trying to figure out what’s going on. Deal. –DT]

I’ve mentioned before that y’all have to realize my stories are true because people from my past show up here, even though I use a pseudonym. In fact, two of my closest friends from way back have come out here looking for me. I’m talking about Matt and Beef.We three were pretty close back in college; I was their Fonzie (Heyyy!) leading them on various and asundry adventures. Most of them I can’t really relate here. In any case, there was one other person that I considered myself to be very close with from those times, her name was Jenn.

Hanging with Jenn was like having a sister my own age. In fact, i remember a couple people asking if we were related. Anyhow, I want to illustrate how effective my online army is:

8:20 PM me: Has anyone ever heard from Jen X?
pittsburghrpga: No, but I wouldn’t mind finding her. She was good people.
Matt: I used to hang out with her for a while after you left town, but haven’t seen or heard from her in years.
8:21 PM me: I gave her a call once while I was still in Minneapolis.

8:22 PM pittsburghrpga: no idea. how old would Jenn be now?

me: about my age

8:28 PM Matt:http://saoirse-gal.livejournal.com/

So in eight minutes my people were able to dig someone up from out of the past.

Fear my power.

Anyways, let me tell you about Jenn. We met my sophomore year when I decided to join Alpha Phi Omega; we were in the same pledge class. For those of you who do not know, Alpha Phi Omega is a national service fraternity. That means, instead of having a social focus, the fraternity focuses on community service activities
Look, it was in the boy Scout handbook, and I enjoyed my time as a Scout, ok? So we pledged together and couldn’t be more different. I remember freaking her badly:

Jen: “A Republican? So you support Bush (senior).”
Me: “Of course not!”
Jen: *sigh of relief*
Me: “I’m a Buchanan guy.”

You have no idea how much I LOVED doing that in college. If liberals owned crucifixes, they’d have pulled them out at that point.

Obviously, we were very much opposites in many ways. I’m staunchly conservative; she’s rabidly liberal. I’m religious; she’s lapsed. I’m traditionalist; she’s feminist. Finally, there was the biggest possible chasm two people in college could ever face each other across:
I’m a Phi Delt; Jenn was Gamma Delta Iota. But I fixed that. Maybe some day I’ll tell that story.

Honestly, if you’re going to be every liberal’s nightmare, go full bore; get yourself some Greek letters.

One of our first discussions ended with her saying, “You are the evil.”

Not evil, mind you.THE evil.

I roll hard.

Now I know some of you are wondering, “Tommissar, you guys have nothing in common. How on earth were you friends?” There is a truth here that I am going to reveal to you, the ignorance of which leads so many people to painfully incomplete lives. Awesomeness calls out to awesomeness, and it cares not for the accidents of the personality or the vagaries of personal dynamics. The secular among us might call it The Brotherhood of Man. I call it the hidden mystery of the soul.

That’s shorthand for, “For some strange reason, we meshed”.

Over the months, Jenn became my liberal defense attorney. “Yes, I know what Tom said when you told him you hoped ROTC would be kicked off campus. On the other hand, he didn’t actually pick up that stick and start beating you with it. Can’t you see that was his way of compromise? He’s a really great guy, once you get past the fascism and all.”

And then I’d pipe in with, “Phalangism! Phalangism!” Because, you know, I’m a helper. And a peacemaker.

So here’s the story. One day, Jenn and I were walking down one of the major streets in Pittsburgh, heading towards campus. Five minutes into the walk, Jenn turns to me.

“You know, that’s pretty weird.”

“It is, what’s weird?”

“Something I’ve noticed. Whenever we walk together, you’re always to my right. Do you even realize you do that?”

“Oh, no. I didn’t notice. So, uh, what class are you heading to again?”

“Class? We’re going to lunch, don’t you remember?”

But of course, changing the subject didn’t work, and I saw realization dawn. “Wait! I know what you’re doing.” Apparently, we’d both seen the same etiquette book at some point in our pasts. “When escorting a lady, a gentleman always walks on the outer part of the sidewalk to shield her from the splashing of mud and water.” Then she got really red (which is hysterical, believe me).

“STOP IT!”

“What? Stop what?”
“You will not walk to my outside!”

“OK, crazy. Should I wait here for you to return from planet nutjob, or will you catch up with me later?”

“Oh? This is all in my head? Well, you won’t mind if the crazy girl walks over here.”

And then she started to cut across so as to get to my right. I think we all know by now it is physically impossible to be to the right of me.

Now, it is bad form to walk to the inside of a lady, so we started shooting across the sidewalk, “Stop it!” firing back and forth between us. I won, treading right upon the edge of the curb; teetering right at the brink of the street.

And that’s when I saw the bus barreling down on me.

My right shoulder and arm exploded in white hot pain as the sideview mirror (I think) clipped me at 25 mph. The THWACK of metal on leather jacket echoed for a block judging by all the people I saw stop and wheel around to stare in my direction. Jenn was even paler than usual.

“OhMyGodOhMyGodOhMyGodOhMyGod. I’m so sorryyoucouldhavebeenkilled! Are you ok?”

“What? That?” through gritted teeth, “Didn’t. Even. Hit.” breath, breath, breath, “Me.”

“Cut it out, John Wayne; you got knocked back a dozen steps. Take off your jacket!”

“Grazed me. And, I, I, uh, I’m cold. I don’t feel like taking my jacket off. Or moving my arm.”

But when I finally took it off, there was just some slight redness because as we all know, a karate man bleeds on the inside. I guess that means he also doesn’t show any bruising.

“Boy, that was lucky.”

“Yeah, you could have been really seriously hurt.”

Watching the slow burn was just too much fun.

“No.” I corrected, “It’s lucky I was walking to your outside. I mean, someone as delicate as you could have been killed by that juggernaut.”
“Next time.” she said evenly, “I’m pushing you in front of it.”

Red cheeks, pointy ears
Little Jenn gets so angry
Tommissar just smiles