LITMIR.BIZ

      “I've had it up to my ass with sedate.”

      —Thelma in Thelma and Louise

      Jezzie

      Have you ever been infatuated with someone? Not just a crush, or an attraction, but the insatiable urge to do something, anything, to become the object of another person's desire? That's how it was with my Kung-Fu instructor Tony. I was seventeen, and he was twenty-two. He had his own car, his own apartment, and an understated masculinity that I found enticing. He was tall, and lean, and muscular, and of course he was a top-notch martial artist (this ranks an A+ in the macho department, especially when handled in a humble manner). We needn't delve into the depths of his columbine-blue eyes or the punch in his step when he walked. His crooked smile or dry sense of humor probably wouldn't be of interest to you either, but suffice it to say I really had a thing for him.

      At the same time, I had a freaky boy-crazy friend, whom we can call Jezzie (short for Jezebel). Jezzie was my friend because she was everything I wasn't. She was blonde, and she was chesty. She always had boys hanging on her every word, and she was chesty. She wore black underwear, and a black French bra, and she was…oh well, you get the picture. Anyway, Jezzie always got the cutest boys, and I got…well, I got to wave at them as they drove off in their hot rods with Jezzie. Jezzie often set me up with boys, but I was naive and kind of old-fashioned. She called it prudish. The fear of God (and more importantly, Mom) had been drilled into my head long before the onset of puberty. Boys seemed to somehow sense this, and so, by the tender age of seventeen, I had only been kissed twice.

      By the time Tony began to pay me any attention, I had already pegged him as my one and only True Love. It would be like a Fred As tai re movie. He would dance (make that monkey roll) over to me, wink, and perform a flying drop kick to my wondering amazement. Then, he would lead me to his awaiting chariot (a ’75 silver Nova with tinted windows), and we would drive off into the sunset. He would beg me to marry him, and, not wanting to disappoint him, I would agree. We would have all the worldly goods a black belt would grant us. We would throw keggers for our friends, and I would be the envy of every girl. Tony would pick wildflowers for me every day, bring me coffee in the mornings, and spend hours gazing at me as I went about my daily routine. When we grew old, we would die in each others arms, neither of us able to sustain life without True Love.

      forever in blue (nail polish, that is!)

      Katie Hayes and Lizzie Anders were the best of friends—London hip-hoppers working at the start-up MTV offices in London, Craving more adventure, the pair decided to leave their jobs and embark on an around-the-world-holiday. They made the obligatory shopping excursions to purchase gear—including blue nail polish for their toes. Their plan was to travel through Africa to Asia and on to Australia and New Zealand. For the last leg of the trip they hoped to purchase a purple VW van and drive it across the U.S.

      The first month of their trip was perfect—encounters with wonderful people and fascinating sites. However, on their flight from Ethiopia to Kenya, they found themselves in a terrifying situation. Their plane was hijacked, then crashed into the sea near the Comoro Islands. Miraculously, both women survived but Katie was more seriously injured, and the two were separated. In the makeshift hospital, Lizzie begged her caretakers to find her friend, but with the language barrier and post-crash chaos, no one was able to identify and locate Katie. Finally, just as they were both about to be shipped off to different cities, a French doctor came up to Lizzie saying, “Zee blue finger sisters, they must be kept together!” He had recognized Katie thanks to their matching blue toenails.

      Four and a half months after the crash and rescue, Katie and Lizzie resumed their travels. There hasn't been a day when they haven't sported blue toenails.

      Jezzie had always been a faithful friend. She and I got along famously—she was raucous, loud, and wild, and I went along with whatever she did, usually laughing while hiding my face. She would make sure I didn't drink so much that I got sick when we went to parties, She would face down any girls who thought I was easy prey. She even (with an oh-so-sweet manner) talked my mom into extending my curfew a few times. She took me to my first rock concert—and my second, and third. She taught me how to smoke, and she showed me how short to cut off my cut-offs. We were best friends. Nothing could come between us.

      So, of course I told her about Tony, that he was the one. She looked at me like I was sick.

      “How do you know?” she asked.

      “Well, he's been flirting with me an awful lot, and last Friday, he kissed me.” My face turned red just telling her about it.

      “Kissed you?” she asked. “That's it?”

      “Jezzie!” I said, my face flushing deeper. She laughed, tousled my hair, and announced, “I'll just have to check this guy out,”

      It was August, and the weekend of her birthday, when she came by the martial arts studio to pick me up after my evening class. I introduced her to Tony, and she immediately turned on that charismatic charm that seemed to draw men like sweat draws flies. She produced a bottle of wine that she'd talked someone into buying for her. Tony located some clean coffee cups, and the three of us had a drink in celebration of her birthday. Then she had another, and so did Tony. I abstained, wanting desperately to avoid making a fool of myself in front of Tony. After they had two glasses each, Tony asked her if she wanted to see his new car. She gave me one of her I'm just toying with him smiles, and they went to the parking lot together. I poured myself another half a cup and sipped at it while I waited for them. After I'd finished the wine, I began to watch the clock. Fifteen minutes. Twenty minutes. Twenty-five minutes. I was worried about them, so I snuck around the side of the building. I could see the car. They were nowhere to be seen. I was really getting ticked off when I noticed that the Nova was rocking like a cradle. I could even hear the shock absorbers squeaking.

      Damn it! I thought, Jezzie, what the hell are you doing? Concern raced through my mind close on the heels of fury. I was really worried that they were doing what I thought they were doing in there. I'd never experienced it, but two girls had left school that year because they had gotten pregnant. I didn't want that to happen to Jezzie. I agonized over what to do. Finally I decided to stop them before Jezzie got more than she was asking for.

      Murmuring the foulest curse words I knew through gritted teeth, and with knotted fists, I started toward the car. As I got closer, I realized that even with the darkened windows, I could still see in. I edged the rest of the way to the car with my back turned, and a hand (very obviously, I hoped) clasped tightly over my eyes. I banged on the window. The first try didn't work, as I could still hear the shock absorbers. I tried again, and kept banging loudly unti! I heard the squeaking stop. Then came the sound of panic-stricken muffled voices from inside the car. By this point, whether from nerves or the ridiculousness of the situation, I'll never know, I had a huge grin on my face. Fighting an overwhelming urge to laugh, I lifted my hand from the window and waved my most friendly wave. Then, with my eyes still covered, I made my way back inside.

      When they came in, both of their faces were scarlet. I couldn't seem to get rid of my smile. Tony said good night and abruptly departed. Jezzie grabbed her bottle of wine, her purse, and said, “Let's go party.” I followed her to her car, and as she started the ignition, still smiling, I said, “Well?”

      “Nope,” she said as we pealed away from the curb.

      “Nope, what?” I said, starting to show some irritation.

      “Nope, he's not the one for you!” she half-laughed, half-shouted. Seeing that I wasn't laughing, she became serious, and apologized with as much humility as I had ever seen her possess. I tried to be mad, but I couldn't. He was just a guy. She was my best friend. When I told her why I had come to knock on the window, she gave me her most sincere smile, and a look that said I was both foolish and blessed. Then she tousled my hair, turned up the stereo,

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