Punk Rock Girl (da da da da da)

One day while walking to philosophy class I noticed something unusual. Out of the building walks two short cheerleader types talking in a horrible almost valley girl like speech. “Oh…My god Jenny, it was like so over the top….” One of them says. I began to get a nauseating shiver up my back when I see another girl behind the cheerleader types. This girl was very tall, around six feet. She was wearing a black t-shirt and jeans. She had a lip and lebrey piercing. Her hair was full of pink and blue stripes pulled into two nubs at the top of her head. She was hovering over the cheerleader types. You couldn’t ask for a better study in contrast.

This alone would have made my day, but it got better. Punk girl leans over the cheerleaders and proceeds to make amazingly weird faces at them. It was a rapid fire version of all the faces you made at your little brother to annoy him. Best of all the cheerleaders had no idea was going on. They just kept walking on their pink, fluffy, idiotic way. I ran into class to everyone about the best thing I had ever seen.
I passed punk girl a few weeks later and told her I liked her shirt. She was very excited that someone recognized her obscure comic book t-shirt. She told me that she liked my Johnny Rotten shirt, it was a Sid Viscous shirt, but close enough there both in the same band. We passed and went on our separate ways.

Several months later I saw her sitting on a bench outside of school. I quickly came up with a clever ruse. I walked up to her pulled out a cigarette and asked her if she had a light. Brilliant. She told me she was sorry, but she didn’t have one. Damn it. I walked away, waiting until I was out of sight then I pulled out my lighter and lit my cigarette. I felt like one of those creepy guys in bars asking woman if they are wearing astronaut pants, because their asses are out of this world. Sigh.

Another couple of months later I passed going to class. I should ask her out, I thought to myself. Then I ran back and asked her if she wanted to go to my friends Halloween party. It was the greatest thing ever. She didn’t play it cool at all. She jumped up and down, and said she would in a very cute voice. She got out a pen so we could exchange numbers. I was so happy that I wasn’t even fazed when she snatched the paper out of my hand because I had spelled her name wrong (if you ever write someones name down, sweet jesus, you need to ask how to spell it, people can be ridiculously uptight about their names.) Her name was Teresa and I was very happy.

I was so excited about our date that I called her up and asked her for a pre-date. We went to Denny’s for coffee and I was so nervous I began rambling and telling her stories about bullhorns, and nycrome wire saws. On my drive to work after our pre-date I began to think that she must think that I am nuts. I began to wonder if I blew it.

I didn’t blow it. We went on our Halloween date. We went to my apartment and watched Evil Dead II. It turned into an episode of Mystery Science Theatre 3000, we laughed and made jokes the entire time. We were supposed to go to my friend George’s big Halloween party, but we were so into each other that we didn’t go. We stayed in and talked for hours sitting on my couch wearing our Halloween costumes. When I took her home that night an obscure type-o negative song came on the radio as I pulled into her driveway. We kissed goodnight and we didn’t want to let each other go. A few dates later when I told her that I loved her for the first time she just sweetly said I know. Seriously, how cool is that. We have been together ever since.

There are lots of other great stories, but it’s good to keep some things just for us. I will tell you that on our first anniversary the next Halloween we went to a Marylin Manson concert. Long story short I got pepper sprayed by the S.W.A.T. team. Seriously.
p.s. Teresa knew who was on my t-shirt and it’s a sore subject to this day that she said the wrong name. She also always carries a lighter around even though she doesn’t smoke. I don’t know exactly what that means, but I would like to think that it’s one of those great girl sentiments.

p.p.s. The night before I wrote this Teresa rolled over in bed sound asleep and said coos coos. Greatest girlfriend ever.

p.p.p.s She is now my wife.