Flashback: The Great Clam Jam of 1998

To protect the innocent, I'm going to conceal the identity of the people involved in this story. They know who they are and one of them loves being written about anyway.

Picture it: The Lobby of Bienville Hall Dorm. Thanksgiving or Christmas Eve 1998 (can't remember). The group is already sitting on the couches in the lobby when Pathetic Goth Boy and I return from visiting my family for the holiday. I'd taken PGB home with me because he was on the outs with his family.

Anyway, the couches are full at first so PGB and I are standing around telling everyone of the visit to my family and a side trip to visit the very heterosexual Major Hottie. We tell them how my family had responded to our decision to share resources over the break by acting as if we were married. They kept asking if "we" needed this, that or the other and offering cooking supplies, tupperware and the like. Then, we tell everyone about Major Hottie, who'd answered her door in a long blue silk nightie covering her six feet of gorgeousness b/c she thought I was the only person at the door. I mock PGB for his breathless "Lucy Lawless" as MH ran upstairs to get dressed.

As we get to this point in the story, I notice the unrequited love of my life and most gorgeous woman on the planet aka Super Jew giving me the once over. Then she proclaims, "She's so pretty!" and buries her face in her hands. Keep in mind that I've seen SJ jump over a couch to look at a girl's ass, so the shy thing is freaking me out. I think maybe she's talking about me and am about to say thank you when Big Man says, "Who? Lucy Lawless?" SJ raises her head and a bit too gratefully says, "Yeah. Lucy Lawless." like she didn't really mean it. I kick myself for my delay and let it pass.

Later, I end up sitting next to SJ as Pathetic Goth Boy starts telling every one about his huge crush on Pathetic Goth Girl. Since there'd been the joke about our being "married" earlier, I do my best fake offended routine and scream, "You bastard! You're cheating on me?" At this point, SJ leans over and whispers in my ear, "That means you get to cheat on him too, right?" (This moment will forever be known as the moment my brain up and died.) Anyway, instead of saying what was in my head ("Only if it's you."), I proclaim "I'm just not that kind of girl!" like some Southern Belle who'd just been propositioned by a Yankee soldier during the War of Northern Aggression. Definite brain death.

Later still, PGB offers to give SJ a ride home. I offer to ride along because PGB still isn't too familiar with New Orleans. Suddenly, Big Man offers to join us, at which point I try to bow out. If Big Man is going, PGB won't need me for directions. Big Man says I should come anyway, so we all pile in to PGB's small truck with the miniature extended cab that allows two people to sit knee to knee behind the main seats. Rubbing knees with SJ is my idea of heaven! Let me tell ya. But it doesn't last nearly long enough. Before I know it, we're at SJ's place. When she gets out, she turns around and says very slowly and with a bit too much enunciation, "Melinda. You haven't seen my apartment yet. Why don't you come up?"

As I begin to crawl out of my place on the other side of the truck towards the open door, I thank every deity ever worshipped anywhere for my good fortune. Melinda is getting somewhere! With Super Jew! The most beautiful woman on the planet! My face probably would've cracked open from the stupid grin on it if it weren't for the intervention of Big Man, who proclaims, "I haven't been to your apartment yet either. I'm coming up." I should've smacked him. This leads Pathetic Goth Boy to decide that he doesn't want to sit in a strange neighborhood in the middle of the night so he should join us too. Yay! I love company. NOT!

We get to SJ's apartment, which is arranged with one room behind another in a row, and suddenly she's in a rush. "This is my living room. This is my bedroom. This is my kitchen. Gotta go to the bathroom. Be right back." I smirk to myself as we pass through the bedroom and think, "THIS is where I'll be having sex!" (No such luck, unfortunately. But I was a cocky little dyke, wasn't I?)

The three of us stand around admiring the quirkiness of SJ's apartment for about 2 minutes. When SJ emerges suddenly from the bathroom, she basically orders us out of her apartment because she's "got a lot of things to do" late at night on Thanksgiving or Christmas Eve (can't remember). So, we leave.

I wonder what would have happened that night if I'd gone up alone but maybe it's best that I don't torture myself. I've never quite gotten over SJ as it is. Anyway, that shall forever be known as The Great Clam Jam of 1998, because I'm pretty sure that Big Man unwittingly clam jammed me that night. I've discussed it with him and he thinks I may be on to something. He's apologized profusely though he had no way of knowing at the time. And I forgive him. Sometimes.