Jody was loads prettier than me. Now, you don’t need to do the nice thing, The Internet, and say, “Aunt Becky, that’s not true! You’re WAY prettier than she was” because trust me, I know that I’m an attractive girl. I’m not suffering for an ego and while I might occasionally fish for compliments at home when I say things like, “Would you describe me as ‘hauntingly beautiful’ or ‘achingly beautiful?’” to my husband, The Daver, I’m not doing it here. It’s the truth. Jody was gorgeous. She was also one of my best friends in high school.
My Lesbian Haircut
I wasn’t jealous of her good looks. Maybe it was the Girl Crush in me or maybe it was because I’m just not really prone to jealousy, I don’t know. Understandably, guys really dug her because she also had a wicked fun sense of humor but weirdly she didn’t often have a boyfriend. Always a serial monogamist even then, I went through a dry spell after I mistakenly cut off all of my hair into what was forever known as my Lesbian Haircut. I didn’t give it that name, but apparently, it made every lesbian and bisexual in the area convinced that I was now batting for the other team. During that time when I was getting no peen, I developed a crush on this wanker named Mike that Jody went to school with.
His Balls Were Practically On Her Chin
I confessed this to her sort of shamefully on the phone one night, and she came up with a master plan for the following day. I would sneak out of MY school and come have lunch with her at HER school because they had lunch hour together. She would talk me up to him! It was a stroke of genius. Brilliance. So I did it. I walked into her high school cafeteria, marveling that high school cafeterias all smelled the fucking same no matter where you were and I immediately spotted Jody, right by the lockers where she said she’d be. Thrilled to see my friend, I darted over to her, ready to give her a big hug, and she blew me off. I stepped back, rebuffed and looked to see what she was doing. She’d engaged Mike, all right, she was now flirting so heavily with him that there was going to be no way in hell that he was going to register that I was even in the same solar system. I stood there for a couple of minutes, waiting to see if this was all an elaborate “and wait until you meet my friend Becky who is even awesomer than me!” but no, by the time I walked out of the school, humiliated, she was practically fucking him against the lockers. His balls were practically on her chin.
I Wised The Fuck Up
With Jody, the experience repeated itself again and again like clockwork: I’d tell her that I was digging on some dude and she’d go and throw her hot ass in his path and ruin any chances I ever had with him. Eventually I wised the fuck up and stopped calling her a friend.
I later realized that Jody derived her self-worth on being able to be The Best. She was a queen bee so desperate for male attention that she’d happily throw a friend under the bus just to remind herself that she was better. It wasn’t that she really cared about having the male attention once she got it, just so long as she took it away from you.
Later came Maggie, who clung to me like white on rice. Maggie wasn’t gorgeous like Jody—the term “matronly” comes to mind when I think of how to describe her–and we were never crazy close. She wasn’t a best friend of mine and while we hung out a lot, it was primarily because she managed to show up wherever I happened to be. Almost like she was stalking me or something.
Or maybe it wasn’t me she was stalking. There was that night that I walked in on her in flagrante delicto with my boyfriend, Selden. Remember Selden of the infamous muff-diving incident? Oh yes. That would turn out to be the first black eye that I ever gave. To her, I mean (her head was closest to my fist). Felt good, too.
What A Bitch
Years later, I was at a party when I walked up behind my former best friend and one of her other friends where I caught a snippet of the conversation, “…and oh my GOD is she STILL not working? WOW. She’s SO fucking lazy. What a bitch. I know how mad that must make you to watch her live off him. When is she going to grow the fuck up and live in the real world?” My former best friend frantically signaled to her friend to shut up, but the damage was done. I’d heard it all.
They were talking about me. Insert knife in the back.
My collection of Frenemies. The opposite of my collection of Girl Crushes.
It’s a common enough phrase to have made it into newest edition of the dictionary, the combination of “friend” and “enemy” and at the root of it all is some mixture of jealousy and dislike. In some ways, I suppose, it can be helpful if you’re playing a game of Keeping Up With The Joneses and constantly one-upping each other, because you’re always striving to do better. On the other hand, why bother?
I’ve never been one of those women who hates other women, but after having had such complicated friendships over the years, I can see why women say that it’s hard for women to be friends with each other. I really want to be all, I’ve learned SO MUCH from my experiences with The Frenemies but truly I haven’t, except for maybe, if you don’t trust a chick not to suck your boyfriend’s penis, maybe she shouldn’t be your friend.
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