Muff Punch

         Tyler Tennant

 

 

 

 

             There are many instances in my life when I have regretted not ending conversations with certain people with a tip of the hat and a booming “fuck off.” From former roommates and boyfriends to snobby strangers, I always walk away with the most cordial of words and then later realize the perfect comeback for that specific moment. I deeply and profoundly feel that on my death bed, I will rue not letting the assholes in my life know that they were indeed the assholiest of assholes. 

             One small instance occurred that angered me enough to make me remember every detail of the encounter. In retrospect, worse things have been said to me by worse people that deserved more outrage then this tiny moment rendered. I was searching the ground for a necklace of great value to me that had broken sometime during the walk to my afternoon college class. I was panicking, thinking of everywhere I would have to scour to find it when I bumped into a girl I had been loosely acquainted with three years prior.

            “Hey Nicole,” I said. It was an automatic response to recognition. Now I know that in the future, I will pretend not to notice douches from my past. 

             “Hey,” she replied in a monotone voice. The situation became very awkward as we realized we were walking the same way. I continued to search the ground distractedly and she clutched both straps of her backpack as she walked. “Haven’t seen you in a while,” she stated peevishly. I was a little thrown back by her blunt coldness. All I remembered about her from before was that she was Jewish, had cystic acne on her face, was an art major, and her parents paid for everything. I remember thinking at the time she was judgmental and conceited as well. 

            “Yeah, it has been awhile,” I laughed in faux recollection. “How’s Melanie?” I asked, silently congratulating myself on remembering her friend’s name and being polite enough to inquire after her.

            “Melody?” she corrected me snidely. Fuck. “She’s good,” she continued, “I never see anyone on campus anymore except Sarah.”

            “Well, she’s pretty hard to miss,” I joked in reference to my former roommate’s staggering height. I had flashbacks at that moment to when my old roommates, Nicole, Melody, and I had hung out once or twice. “Kari works at the library now, so you’ll probably see her 

soon.” 

             “Aren’t you new media now?” she asked in reference to my major. It seemed like a sudden question, and I didn’t feel like correcting her that I was once media production and not new media. I decided to just tell her my new major.

             “No, English.” 

             “So you changed it again?” She asked. I tried to laugh off my years of indecisiveness and lack of foreseeable future with a nonchalant reply. 

             “Yeah, why not?” I laughed and shrugged, as if changing your major five times was just a cool new trend to try while instagramming your pumpkin spice latte and pretending you’re not fifty grand in debt. #Depression.

             “Interesting...”she said, as if relishing the new information to report to her lackeys. She’s a foot shorter than you, just punt her! “So when do you graduate?” she continued. 

             “Oh, uh, either this spring or next fall...It depends,” I wanted so badly to pretend I had to turn a different way so I could end the conversation, but this was a path where my necklace could potentially be found.

            “Shouldn’t you have graduated a while ago?” she asked. Now I wanted to use my three days’ worth of karate lessons from when I was eight. I quit when I found out they didn’t just give you a belt.

            “Yep,” was all I could come up from the bottom of my shame pit. She gave a half-smile with a coy look in her eye that conveyed everything she thought about me. Just then her turn came, and she got the last words with a quick “seeya.”

           “Glad your skin cleared up. Fuck off,” I wish I had said, realizing my necklace was stuck in my bra.