[Originally publish October 30, 2007.]
The Great Lakes
Lindsey will be the brave, tumultuous Lake Superior, the largest freshwater lake in the world and home to a wide variety of trout. Katie will be the subtle, exotic Lake Huron, home to a variety of industries, such as metalworking, automobile manufacturing, and shipbuilding. The two girls who threw wet tampons at my locker will be Erie and Ontario, because they’re kind of tagalongs. I’ll be the well-liked and socially accepted Lake Michigan. We’ll walk around holding hands all night, because without each other our costumes would be silly.
Lindsey will be an adorable and tomboyish Ruth Bader Ginsberg. She’ll be fierce and unafraid in the face of a Supreme Sausage Fest with a near-unconstitutional amount of sausage. Katie will be a hirsute and Hamiltonian Antonin Scalia, a ruthless defender of precedent and self-evidence, but with a soft side that no one sees until she gets a few soda pops under her belt. I’ll be Anthony “Swing Vote” Kennedy. They’ll each be vying for my support, groveling for my attention, humiliating themselves in the vain hope that my vast intelligence and popularity will improve their own.
The Soviet Satellites
Lindsey will be a homely and childbearing Poland; Katie, the rebellious and discontented Czechoslovakia. Those popular boys they got to slow-dance with me just so they could put wet tampons on my back can be the rest of the satellites. I’ll be the Soviet Union, and we’ll have each other’s backs, until they do something without inviting me. Then I’ll send in troops to correct their crooked double-crossing ways, because I’ll know what’s best for them. After all, nothing says “best friends” like political alliance.
Lindsey will be a tigress, alert and cunning, preying upon the hearts of her fellow jungle dwellers. Katie will be a gazelle, traipsing the grasslands, wearing a pair of horns made out of toilet-paper rolls. I will be a social butterfly trapped in a cocoon of self-doubt.
Lindsey will be a vehemently nationalistic Giuseppe Garibaldi, and she will unify our scattered state by presenting me with a best-friend necklace she made herself. Katie will be a round-headed Oliver Cromwell, and she will establish a commonwealth of friendship by presenting me with a best-friend necklace she made herself. Then they will fight over who is better friends with me. That girl they got to say “Megan Kinderhook is a wet tampon” on the morning announcements will be our oppressor. I’ll be Simón Bolívar, and I’ll liberate us from petty social hierarchies based on clothing, wealth, and our ability to conceal the facial hair we all have.
Siamese-Twin Best Friends
We’ll all tape our bodies together and take an indecent amount of prepubescent delight in the friction between our blossoming woman parts. Actually, on second thought, that’s gross. Or not. I don’t know. Depends on if they’d be up for it.