Have you ever met someone who you could just tell was slightly…off? You know what I mean, someone who is perfectly okay on the exterior but underneath is someone completely different?
What sucks the most about these people is you never can tell if it’s you being bitchy or it’s them being insane. It means butterfly was that kind of person, not outwardly mean or cruel, but drove just about everyone who met her insane. And I never knew if I could REALLY complain about her, because was she really bad? Or was it JUST ME?
She was addicted to the computer far before I was, and as such, she never, ever went off her chat program. She talked to Dave constantly on IM, no matter what I was doing. Even if I was having The Sex.
One day, after class I ran back to my room hoping that she would still be in class but no, there she was hooting and cooing at the computer screen. I informed her that I would be napping, hoping that she would leave for an hour or so, but no, she sat there clacking away on the computer.
Maybe it’s me, but I can’t handle that kind of noise when I’m trying to sleep. Once I’m asleep, it’s all good and I can totally sleep through anything. But going to sleep, I need quiet. Well, this day, it annoyed the fuck out of me that she wasn’t taking the hint.
So I sat up furiously and said, “It means butterfly, I am TOTALLY buying you a quieter keyboard for Christmas!”
Well I’m sure that my tone was decidedly angry, it didn’t warrant what she did next: burst into tears and ran into the hallway, presumably to tell on me. This pissed me off even more, because I hate nothing more than the guilt of making someone cry, so I got off and flounced off to Pashmina/Stimpy’s room where I vented.
I could still here it means butterfly crying from there, and I felt bad, but not that bad.
We both pretended it had never happened.
Several weeks later, during the end of October, her boyfriend came up to stay with us, as SIU closes it’s campus during Halloween due to some previous riots. For a whole week.
What I was expecting when Dave showed up is a fumbling nerdy guy, probably 350 lbs, glasses and back-ne. What Dave was is a skinny Metal Head. A cool one. I liked him immediately and wished that HE were my roommate.
(and no, this Dave is not The Daver. I would never allow a penis that had been inside of it means butterfly to be inside of me. I do have standards, afterall).
Since I was in the bottom bunk, and they shared the top one for his visit, I jokingly told them that they could not have The Sex while I was underneath. Our bed swayed alarmingly if you so much as breathed on it, and I knew that if some humping was going down, I’d never get to sleep.
It means butterfly was not a very attractive girl, and I already had to watch her pillowy body flop around the room, and I did NOT need to think of her having The Sex.
One night, during this time, I went to sleep, headphones on and grooving to some Slayer (or something. I don’t remember), when I started to feel something…moving. My bed was suddenly rocking back and forth. This displeased me so much that they were doing gross things to each other ABOVE ME that I grabbed my stuff and went to sleep on Stimpy/Pashmina’s floor.
And boy was I pissed.
I spent the rest of the week sleeping on another friend’s floor (A BOY!!) and occasionally popping into my room to get supplies (mainly cigarettes). During one of my brief stops into MY OWN ROOM, I came to find it means butterfly frantically tearing through our room, throwing my stuff around while shrieking and crying. She got so upset about this that she barfed in the garbage can in the bathroom.
I asked her what the hell she was doing and she screamed “LOOKING FOR THE GODDAMN REMOTE! I CAN’T FIND IT!”
She tore up most of my room looking for the damn thing, which she eventually found in her own bed.
Why she had convinced herself that I had somehow stolen her remote and hidden it somewhere when I hadn’t been in my own room in hours, and ESPECIALLY since she flipped out about leaving the TV on the wrong channel, I had never used her TV again.
I guess that was the end for me. I couldn’t handle walking on eggshells around this country bumpkin of a girl with no life and no winning attributes at all. I couldn’t stand her, couldn’t handle all of her control issues, and didn’t really want to do it anymore.
I all but moved out, moved home at the end of the semester, and only thought of her again when Stimpy and I would get together and make fun of her.
5 or so years pass, and on my wedding day, my bridal party and I went to the salon to get our hair and makeup done. I was on complete edge, running on adrenaline, and freaked the fuck out.
My mother had showed up to get her hair done completely wasted and I promptly cried off all the makeup that had been applied. The makeup artist was so sweet to me, redid it all, and talked me down (along with some of my girls, of course).
When it was time to go to the church and put on the pouffy white dress, so I hopped off the salon chair, gabbing with Stimpy and Ashley and this girl walks by. Literally the last person I’d expected to see on MY WEDDING DAY was right there. I’d have frankly been less surprised to see Vincent D’Onofrio or Anthony Bourdain walk in together, with their dicks dancing in unison to a Janet Jackson song.
That’s right, it means butterfly was there, at the salon, on my wedding day.
We said perfunctory hello’s to each other, I explained that I needed to go to MY WEDDING and had to leave, and I haven’t seen her again.
I can’t, however, pass a bottle of wax without remembering the day that she burst into Stimpy’s room with her used wax to display how much hair she’d gotten off her lip.