Everyone has that one friend, the one your parents hated and their parents hated you just as much. The other one was such a bad influence.
Ah, the days of meeting half way to catch the bus, passing notebooks in class, secret code language & nicknames. She was Fur-Fur & I was Imp. [short for impatient – looking back, I’m not sure what I was so impatient for as a 12 year old].
As I decided which stories I wanted to share with you I relized I’m not entirely surprised our parents weren’t fond of our blossoming friendship. If I’m being honest, I’m still not sure if things we did were normal childhood liveliness, or if we were downright awful human beings.
I hope it’s closer to the first, but………………
The first mischievous thing I remember doing with Jenny H was skipping recess. Yes, it’s possible. You’re supposed to go outside with the rest of class… and we decided to sit in the stairwell instead.
Rebels without a cause; we received in school suspension for a week.
As I continue with this story, please keep in mind that we were very
We used to pick on a girl named Sarah. She was the first chair flute and also played the piccolo. For you non-band people out there, the chairs signify how good you are at said instrument.
Jenny & I also played the flute, we were the last & 2nd to last chair – and we did not care.
We stole Sarah’s padlock from her locker more than once, which might seem innocent…but we took it to a different level when we found our band teacher in the phone book.
Mr. Fairweather; he was interesting.
He always wore a floppy cowboy hat on his way into work. Occasionally, the group of us sitting outside before school would bust into, “Where Did All The Cowboys Go” by Paula Cole in decent harmony.
But anyway… we called him.
“Hello? Mr. Fairweather?
This is Sarah.
I’m sorry to call you at home but I was wondering if you
could tutor me?”
Jenny, pretending to be Sarah basically begged him to reconsider every time he declined. The conversation ended when she screamed:
The dancing baby was big at the time… so…
It wasn’t long before we threw our homeroom teacher, Mr. Anderson into the mix. We ordered multiple pizzas, with lots of delicious toppings for him. Super nice of us. I wish a pizza would just show up at my door – even if I did have to pay for it.
I think there’s a chance he considered it a random act of kindness rather than a prank; it’s possible. Once that got old… we wanted to see our plan play out. We started ordering pizza for a girl in our class who lived up the road. We’d sit at the top of the hill & watch it get delivered.
Prank calling was kind of a specialty of ours. We’d call random names from the white pages [oh the struggles before the intraweb] and conduct surveys on smoking Meritt Cigarettes.
The surveyor was, “Suzie Severson” & she had a terrible lisp. The survey always concluded with:
“Thank you for your time. Shhmoke on & have a shhmoke free life!”
Again, I like to imagine we gave people a good laugh, but…
Gosh, to have this kind of time on our hands again would be amazing.
When we turned 14 we both got a job at the local drug store up the street. We’d give the cute boys discounts on disposable cameras and they’d buy us chocolates & the super romantic flowers you can buy at a drug store. We were kind of a big deal.
I moved out of Richfield my sophomore year of high school but when I got my driver’s license the shenanigans continued.
Actually… it was before I got my license. I had my learners permit the first time I decided to drive from Wisconsin to Minnesota in my step-dads black GrandAm, on a school day [I think it was a Tuesday].
Jenny…do you want to go to school today?
Me either… I’m coming to pick you up at your bus stop.
Pack us some lunch.
She brought us tuna sandwiches & I made her throw them out the window [sick].
No license… an hour drive [one way], Missy Elliot, Simple Plan, The Mall of America and a set of young-super-good-decision-making gals.
I got home roughly 20 minutes before my mom & step-dad. The day went off without a hitch, until my mother read my old journal.
“I TOLD YOU SO!” was directed at my mom more than once when she made me fess up……………6 years later.
Apparently I didn’t park the car correctly & it’s been weighing on my step-dad ever since.
“Jen would never do something like that!”
-My Mom [for 6 years].
We got through our braces & frizzy hair phase together.
We’ve recorded ourselves singing to Martina McBride…to hear how good we sound.
I cut her hair with a pair of kitchen scissors in her bedroom.
We’ve taken a cat on a joy ride through a corn field, which ended horribly, with lots of scratches & a terrified cat.
We made cosmos in her bedroom with her mom hanging out downstairs.
We went on a search for a real prostitute in Minneapolis…to see if they really exist [they do].
There are many stories I did not include. Some I believe you’ll judge us pretty harshly for, some I don’t think Jenny would appreciate me sharing & some things are better left to the imagination.
Moral of the story #1: All that mumbo-jumbo about your kids being 10x worse than you were… I really hope it’s not true.
Moral of the story #2: I hope my kid finds a friend like Jenny.
I know they’re contradicting but I mean them both.
PS: Sarah, Mr. Fairweather, Mr. Anderson…and the other girl we sent Pizza to [Lisa]…
I speak for both Jenny & I: