Can Preppy Girls Mosh?

If only I could paint an accurate picture of the girlfriends I had between eighth grade and Sophomore year, this story would be so much better.

We'll call them M, K and J for convenience sake. M was basically the leader, yes there was a leader. I met her in seventh grade, I had just transferred to a new school and she walked up to me one day at the bus stop. Given my degree of shyness, the next several years of my life would have been very different without this moment. M was very book smart, but you take her out of her element or put a guy in front of her and she was dumb as a post. J was actually one of the first friends I made on my own when I first moved to the Northwest way back in fourth grade but we lost contact when I switched schools for sixth. We met up again in junior high after I transferred again and she, M and I (plus a few others who never lasted as long) became friends. J was quiet and sarcastic, I loved that girl. We met K in ninth grade, I sat behind her in geography. She was a bit of a bull from the beginning, dad being military had affected her. K was fine as long as you didn't piss her off.

Keeping in mind that M was the leader and we were all at that age where make-up and fashion were starting to actually mean something, conformity became the new rule. This was the reason I ended up leaving this wonderful bitch filled group, but today, that's not the point of my story. (Don't worry, I'm sure I'll get to the point sooner or later.) When this group was essentially formed, everyone was sans make-up, T-shirt and jeans, tennis shoes and ponytails. After M got the inkling that she should change and everyone should follow suit, it was about brand names and preppy stylings. I, for one have never been interested in that kind of thing, there was no way I was going to spend my hard begged for money at the fucking Gap. Yes I went for the whole girly make-up aspect, as long as it was the cheap stuff and not the department store counter bullshit and to this day I prefer to buy my clothes at thrift stores. See where I started to fall behind?

Okay, I think that might be enough background... until I think of more.

One Friday night, Sophomore year, there was a concert at a local park with a few local bands. Luckily there was a school dance the same night so a few fibs to our parents and we were heading to the concert down the street instead. This park wasn't exactly shady but you wouldn't be finding any of the student council there, that's for sure. (This is the same park that a few years later was home to what the school board flipped out and called a "fight club." I had been to the fights, much more well organized then you would have figured when ran by high school students.) I took the safe route and wore a pair of old jeans and a black button up shirt, nothing fancy. My friends, stuck out like sore thumbs. Crisp white tennis shoes, brand name coats, wanna be preppy attire, among a sea of black hoodies and studded belts.

There was a small building there at the park that the bands were playing in, so we made our way inside after paying for the two dollar ticket. It was a small venue, the band itself took up a third of the room, the mini mosh pit took up another third, and everyone else, including us, hung near the back. I doubt I was hid very well my delight of my friend's discomfort, as I felt more comfortable here then I did in their typical atmosphere of the mall. I wasn't about to throw myself into the mosh pit but you never know.

Smoke hung in the air, this is before I took up the leisurely hobby of weed but I'm sure that haze was not fully cigarette induced. Oddly enough, I found myself rather relaxed, even as people bumped into me and all conversation was drowned out by the sheer proximity of the band. Loud and punk, I didn't mind, I think my friends did. I exchanged a few pleasantries with a guy I knew and watched as M turned green with envy from her planted position against the back wall. They all felt too uncomfortable to venture further then six feet from the door. I've got to say, I didn't like the guy, he was an arrogant ass, but I did take satisfaction in the fact that I could actually talk to him when M failed miserably at every attempt. (You know that scene in Dirty Dancing where the guy says something to the chick and she gets all stupid and says "I carried the watermelon!" Yeah, that's basically M.)

Even though I actually had people to talk to, I did what I always did and followed my friends back out the door when they couldn't handle it anymore. There were many people wandering around outside, beer bottles and cigarette butts everywhere and who knows what all everyone was doing before coming wandering back out of the woods.

These two older guys stumbled up to us in a stupor, one even had a beer in each hand. They incoherently babbled as preppy M played the leader of the conversation, saying one dumb thing after another. For one, why would you bother to tell these idiots your name? Secondly, what was so interesting about these two that we actually had to stand here and continue to have them spray it instead of say it?

After finally breaking free of drunk and drunker, we ran into someone we actually knew. (Technically, I knew quite a few people there, but I was a follower, I went where my leash was pulled.) This friend could have been one of the preppy bitches too, the main difference being she actually knew how to loosen up. As M, J and K decided that the school dance would be more entertaining, this girl we had run into was just getting into the party and was going to stay a while longer, they were mad at her for it. Had I stayed, my first stoner experience would have come sooner in my life, but of course, tug, tug of that leash and I was led to the school dance.

These girls were a huge influence on my life. For years their opinions dictated what I did. M even made me sell most of my cd's because they were country. (In all honesty I should say no one made me do anything, again, I was a follower, I felt I had to but it was a choice.) M liked to pick her friends so they were bigger then her, just so she looked smaller, bitch right? We were all big girls, get over it for goodness sake, sheesh. Their influence also showed me what kind of person I didn't want to be. J is a little more like me, at one point, she finally did break free and regained some of her individuality. K to this day I believe would be perfectly content being M's lackey.

I am still in contact with J, we don't see each other nearly enough, especially considering we really only live fifteen minutes apart but I love her dearly. My relationship with M and K was severed in high school, when I couldn't diminish myself anymore by continuing to be a part of their group, they wrote me off completely. I get to peek into their lives occasionally on MySpace but considering all the fights and belittling and everything they (mainly M) put me through, I haven't been able to summon the courage to friend request them. Now M is a cop in some fashion and K is a hair stylist and married, I think I would have guessed it the other way around.

I'll never regret my relationship with M. She was a different person when other people weren't around and without her contrast to my shyness I'm not sure how things would have played out for me. She was the only friend I had growing up who was also a neighbor, we used to ride our bikes together and walk our dogs together. We'd go door to door for the canned food drives at school. We even had a small babysitting service together for a short time. I miss her, but from everything I've heard (put together with the cop thing, ugh) it looks like all those things I didn't like about her have gotten worse and I'd rather not subject myself to that. It's not like she couldn't look me up as easily as I find her, we have some shared friends on MySpace if not the whole high school area. Is it sad that I somewhat take delight in the fact that she has put on weight? I'm pretty sure she has finally stopped denying she is a big girl, about fucking time.

Like I said, if I could give you a true idea of these girls I would because this "fish out of water" story would be so much funnier, but since I can't, you'll just have to deal with it as is. Hope you liked it anyway!