Friday - Mirror, Mirror
Sep. 1st, 2006 03:23 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
ninanevermoreToday on my drive into work, I was thinking about a compact mirror that I own, nestled in a small clutch purse stashed in the back of my closet, and how I need to throw the purse away with the mirror inside of it. There is no way that I want to touch the mirror again, and the purse that it has been sitting in for almost 3 years is tainted from holding it. Because I am a waste-not, want-not kind of person, this bothers me more than a little. It's all the fault of my old friend Patty, and one of the many reasons I no longer have anything to do with her.
The mirror isn't an expensive one, but it had sentimental value. One year Patty took me out on my birthday, and a guy she was dating at the time bought it from a 50-cent novelty vending machine and gave it to me as a present. It is a slim flat square of pink plastic with the word "Princess" on it in puffy letters. It opens up to a magnifying mirror on one side and a regular mirror on the other, and was handy if not exactly fancy. Still, it always made me remember that night on the town and the fun we'd had.
Shortly after that night on the town, Patty broke up with the guy and he moved to Amarillo, in the Texas panhandle. About that time, Patty's Ol' Man, Bryan, got out of jail, which meant that they were on again as a couple. That pattern repeats itself every few years in their lives.
One February night in 2004, Patty and Bryan called me and asked if I wanted to go to a party with them. Since Patty doesn't take no for an answer, I ended up drinking with strangers and wondering when we could go home. I mixed myself 3 good-sized margaritas from the myriad of bottles sitting on the kitchen counter and tried to keep track of Patty and Bryan since they were the only two people there that I knew.
At one point we ended up in a small bedroom dominated by two large freshwater aquariums filled with large, boring freshwater fish. I was looking at these fish wondering why anyone would bother keeping them in their house, when Patty tapped me on the shoulder and asked me if I had a mirror. I dug through my purse and came up with a face-powder compact first.
"No, that won't work," Patty said.
Being hopelessly naive, I looked again and found the pink compact.
"Perfect," Patty said, snatching it from my hand.
She took it over to the nightstand and handed it a man standing there. He took a baggie out of his pocket, dumped some white powder onto my mirror, divided it into lines with a razor blade, and produced a short straw that he handed to Bryan. Bryan snorted a line and handed the mirror to Patty. Patty snorted a line and handed the mirror to the guy next to her. He snorted a line and handed it back to the first guy. The first guy offered the mirror to me, but I shook my head to decline. He smiled. This left both lines to go up his nose.
At this point, the mirror was still usable to me. I could rinse it off and ask more questions of Patty before I lent her anything in the future. It was in the next moment that the mirror became fouled beyond redemption.
"Do you mind if I lick your mirror?" the guy asked.
Mind? Of course I minded. I don't know you, and I don't know where your tongue has been, I wanted to say. You do not have permission to lick anything belonging to me, ever. Even as I opened my mouth to say that yes, I minded quite a bit (he could wipe the powder off onto his finger and lick that, if he wanted it so badly), he stuck out his broad, enormous tongue and licked the entire surface of my pink Princess mirror, several times, then closed it and handed it back to me. Still stunned, I took it and dropped it back in my purse, where it has been ever since.
Two and a half years later, I know I need to toss that handbag and it's lone content. I never really liked the purse that much and it was a cheap mirror to start with, not even worth the half dollar that Amarillo guy paid for it. I'm mostly annoyed about it on principal. I no longer have any contact with Patty (over more egregious transaction than this one), so the loss of a memento from a fun night with her is like tossing another handful of dirt into the grave of our friendship.
The only real affect this has on me personally is that next time some one asks me for a mirror, I'm going to ask what the hell they want it for before I hand it over. Don't think I don't learn from my mistakes.
The mirror isn't an expensive one, but it had sentimental value. One year Patty took me out on my birthday, and a guy she was dating at the time bought it from a 50-cent novelty vending machine and gave it to me as a present. It is a slim flat square of pink plastic with the word "Princess" on it in puffy letters. It opens up to a magnifying mirror on one side and a regular mirror on the other, and was handy if not exactly fancy. Still, it always made me remember that night on the town and the fun we'd had.
Shortly after that night on the town, Patty broke up with the guy and he moved to Amarillo, in the Texas panhandle. About that time, Patty's Ol' Man, Bryan, got out of jail, which meant that they were on again as a couple. That pattern repeats itself every few years in their lives.
One February night in 2004, Patty and Bryan called me and asked if I wanted to go to a party with them. Since Patty doesn't take no for an answer, I ended up drinking with strangers and wondering when we could go home. I mixed myself 3 good-sized margaritas from the myriad of bottles sitting on the kitchen counter and tried to keep track of Patty and Bryan since they were the only two people there that I knew.
At one point we ended up in a small bedroom dominated by two large freshwater aquariums filled with large, boring freshwater fish. I was looking at these fish wondering why anyone would bother keeping them in their house, when Patty tapped me on the shoulder and asked me if I had a mirror. I dug through my purse and came up with a face-powder compact first.
"No, that won't work," Patty said.
Being hopelessly naive, I looked again and found the pink compact.
"Perfect," Patty said, snatching it from my hand.
She took it over to the nightstand and handed it a man standing there. He took a baggie out of his pocket, dumped some white powder onto my mirror, divided it into lines with a razor blade, and produced a short straw that he handed to Bryan. Bryan snorted a line and handed the mirror to Patty. Patty snorted a line and handed the mirror to the guy next to her. He snorted a line and handed it back to the first guy. The first guy offered the mirror to me, but I shook my head to decline. He smiled. This left both lines to go up his nose.
At this point, the mirror was still usable to me. I could rinse it off and ask more questions of Patty before I lent her anything in the future. It was in the next moment that the mirror became fouled beyond redemption.
"Do you mind if I lick your mirror?" the guy asked.
Mind? Of course I minded. I don't know you, and I don't know where your tongue has been, I wanted to say. You do not have permission to lick anything belonging to me, ever. Even as I opened my mouth to say that yes, I minded quite a bit (he could wipe the powder off onto his finger and lick that, if he wanted it so badly), he stuck out his broad, enormous tongue and licked the entire surface of my pink Princess mirror, several times, then closed it and handed it back to me. Still stunned, I took it and dropped it back in my purse, where it has been ever since.
Two and a half years later, I know I need to toss that handbag and it's lone content. I never really liked the purse that much and it was a cheap mirror to start with, not even worth the half dollar that Amarillo guy paid for it. I'm mostly annoyed about it on principal. I no longer have any contact with Patty (over more egregious transaction than this one), so the loss of a memento from a fun night with her is like tossing another handful of dirt into the grave of our friendship.
The only real affect this has on me personally is that next time some one asks me for a mirror, I'm going to ask what the hell they want it for before I hand it over. Don't think I don't learn from my mistakes.
