Reminiscing…

When I was in the eighth grade, I was science partners with a girl named Lori. Unfortunately for Lori, she had somewhat of a male likeness, and therefore several people in our grade called her Larry. I felt a sort of solidarity with Lori, because when I was in the fourth grade my mom took me to a hair salon and instructed the stylist to give me a haircut similar to her’s – short cropped to the ears and fluffy on top. It looked good on my mom as a middle aged woman, but on me - a pre-pubescent girl with undefined features and a penchant for wearing button-down tops – it made me look a bit…uhhhh…mannish. I spent about 8 months of my life dealing with remarks like “and what would you like to order young man?” and “hey, how come your swim suit has a top?!”

At any rate, I was getting fed up with people calling Lori by the name of Larry. My disapproval with it all came to an apex when, during class, a boy named Matt called her Larry and I rebutted in the form of calling him Mathilda. I wanted him to feel the same embarrassment and Lori did in the same situation, and perhaps learn to feel some empathy for her. As most of my attempts at this go, my retribution was unsuccessful. Matt just gave me a weird look, the middle finger and walked away. My disappointment was compounded when, as I learned through future experiences, Lori seemingly liked being called Larry and would in-fact encourage people to call her as such. I think she thought it was funny. My personal experiences with the issue did not allow me to agree with her.

This story does have somewhat of a happy ending though. I learned some time ago that Lori grew her hair out a little, got smaller framed glasses and wound up getting married. I think she may even have a kid. I only hope that she wound up naming it something gender-ambiguous. As for Matt, I haven’t seen him for about 10 years but I can say with confidence that due to his middle school mullet and general air of dirtiness he is presently living with gingivitis and at least a mild drinking problem. We’re probably soul mates. Dammit.