Last Tofu In Paris - Addendum

In the comments section from The Last Tofu in Paris post yesterday, M wondered why I hadn't made mention of DH's encounter with JG.

Some background information:

During my freshman and sophomore years of college, I lived in the dorm with N.

During those same years, M lived with H.

During those same years, N had a friend JG who would appear every now and then and would call our room. JG annoyed me. There were many things about her that bothered me - but the two most annoying things about her were her voice and the way every single boy would fall in love with her instantly for no apparent reason. She was so transparent to women - her high pitched squeal, her contrived stare and batting eyelashes, her body language. But men? They were rabid. JG would call the room, and I swear she would flirt with me over the phone.

She would screech "Hi-eee Leah!!! How are you doing, silly-head?"

I am not making that up. She called me silly-head. Who does that? And more importantly, why are all men infatuarted with someone who does that?

After sophomore year, I subletted an apartment from JG, which was the very same apartment in which I lived with DH.

As junior year approached, N (my roommate) and M decided to move off-campus into a house. There was talk of who would live in the house, and when I found out that they were going to live with JG, I thought "No, not me, I can't live with her. I would just die. Or, I'd have to kill her."

So N (my roommate) and M moved in with JG, DH, and another friend of theirs, while I moved in with H (M's roommate).

Confusing.

All you need to know is that M lived with JG for some reason that must have made sense to M at the time.

M had (has) issues with JG, to the point where she had nightmares about her.

M was shocked and horrified to hear that DH had recently run into JG in the airport in Philly, which is where M used to live!!! She said "OH MY GOD - it is possible that I could have run into JG!" She wanted to know exactly what had happened, and sympathized with DH.

She said "I wonder what I would have done if I'd run into her."

Which of course provided us with endless giggly material.

So, for the first time ever on My Mundane Life In Song, I am thrilled to present a guest writer! This is M's version of what would have happened had I run into JG in the airport, but some of it is just her projecting, such as when I nearly declare "WENCH!" I probably wouldn't do that, but M has been known to do that in response to JG.

I am proud to present:

JG (written by M!)

Picture it. You're in an airport, happily chatting with your friend about the vacation you are about to start when you hear it. "LEEEEEEE-ahhhhhhhh!" . Your eyes widen in shock and your head snaps up. You haven't heard that sound in years, that high pitched first syllable followed by the long sighing second syllable, but you recognize it instantly. Could it be? It couldn't. Could it? The hairs on the back of your neck are prickling as you slowly turn your head. It is! It's J from college!

She's bearing down on you with her wide mouth stretched into a smile. She's grinning at you like as though she's found her long-lost friend, and she's making those squeaking cutesy noises you remember so well. "Leah! Hiii-eeeee!!! How are you?" Women are giving her horrified looks and dogs are fleeing the supersonic squeaking, but she leaves a trail of dazed men with hopeful smiles in her wake.

You back away as your eyes dart back and forth, searching, searching for an escape. Suddenly, you remember that your friend has yet to develop an immunity against her evil, magical wiles. You throw yourself between your friend and J, screaming, "Save yourself! It's too late for me! Run! RUN!!!!" There can be no disobeying the terror in your voice, and he flees. You are alone.

She has arrived. "LEEE-ahhhhh! It's been so long!" She begins to babble on and on about her new job, her new house, her new boyfriend.

You are trapped. All you can do is feign interest in her life and pray that your friend doesn't come back until she's gone. Your eyes are watering from the effort of holding back the screams of, "WENCH! WENCH!" until you can't take it anymore. You shake your head, as if waking from a dream, and say, "Listen, J, it's been great talking to you and all, but I have to go, because I really can't stand you and
couldn't care less about your life."

She gives you a shocked, wounded look, and you take the opportunity to run for the food court. You're free! The remaining minutes before your flight are spent relishing the lack of J in your life. Ahhh.

When your row number is called, you get on the plane and find your seat: 34A. Guess who's sitting in 34B.

Awkward.