Homecoming Post 8: Get Back for the Gotaway

So, I have been talking to friends, getting everyone's debriefings of Xavier's AMAZING Centennial Homecoming, and some of us 30+ ladies have been a touch naughty. You know what I'm talking about. Coming back to campus, trying to rekindle love affairs with those ones that got away. I mean, this would be cool if many of our Xavier brothers weren't married, otherwise coupled, or lying about not being married or otherwise coupled. Obviously, we all read that same horrifying article that said that by our age, we have probably met or even dated our forever person. I just want to apologize to all of you for being judgmental. I can be so high and mighty sometimes. I was prepared to call all of you to the administration building steps for a stern talking to until I had to remind myself that I'd had plans to almost do the same exact thing.  

Anyone who knows me knows that I stayed in love with someone my whole four years of college. Of course, all of these loves were unrequited. The African Alpha, the light-skinnededed Kappa, the Sigma with the weird last name, and ALL the Omegas. They were all Prince Charmings in my eyes until a guy held the door open for me coming out of the library, and I fell in love with him, too. Yet out of nowhere, I met this guy who was a dork and weird and funny and taller than me, and I thought that he was the best thing since gauchos. Sidebar: Do you all remember gauchos? When are they going to bring those back? What an easy and comfortable pair of pants! Sure, they gave you camel toe, but they were the perfect airy, light choice for the summer walking to class. Anyway, we will call this guy Twinkle. 

I have not seen Twinkle in person in ages, and I know for sure that he had no interest in me. I was friend-zoned to the furthest extent of the cosmos. But he was still nice to me anyway and didn't care that I followed him around. He was just a cool dude. Then I graduated and he married one of the Elephant People. Sometimes, I think about inquiring about him to one of the Elephant People because there are Elephant People who are my people. However, I am not sure how they will receive my inquiry. Will they be receiving it as one of my people or one of the Elephant People, because if the inquiry is received as one of my people, that Elephant Person will tell me to shut up and sit down somewhere, but if they take in my inquiry as one of the Elephant People, then they will order my assassination. I really don't want it with the herd. You get me? You get me. 

I imagined what it would have been like if I had run into Twinkle at homecoming. I would not have been as brave as some of you. I just would have settled for seeing him. If I even thought of approaching him, I imagine one of the Elephant People would have done me in with one of those guns from No Country for Old Men. 

My friend DZ used to say that she had a place in her heart for all of her loves. If this is true, if we actually do store the feelings in our hearts for our lost loves, that may have to do for most of us. It is better to hold on to our memories and dignity than end up losing our teeth because of a pissed off girlfriend. By this age, we probably all have a few that we think got away. But let's be realistic. Even if we are hot and they are single, there is a slim chance that we will be getting them back. Don't cry about it girl! You can always see what's up at your high school reunion. 

Homecoming Post 3: Bells and the Bulldog

Isn't it funny how a situation can be hilarious to you but traumatizing to someone else? That is how the situation with Bulldog is for me and Bells. I still chuckle about it to myself today, and up until the tailgate, the whole ordeal still gave her panic attacks. 

Back in the day when things were cool, Bells and I went to a party at this club called The Bourbon Room. I remember it being a good time, and at some point, Bells and I took a seat at a booth to sip on our drinks. While we were being grown and sexy, Bulldog and one of his frat brothers walked over to our booth. I could tell from Bells's face that she was annoyed. I wasn't. I had gotten to know Bulldog from my Small Group Communication class. He had a reputation for being a little extra, but he was cool and funny once you got to know him. He and his friend said hi to us both, but it was clear that Bulldog had made his way over to talk to Bells. 

"Can I get you a drink?" Bulldog asked Bells. 

Bells smiled and told Bulldog, "No, thank you, I already have a drink."

I felt kind of bad in that moment. I knew that sting of being ignored by guys, but it had to sting worse to approach a woman and be rejected. 

Bulldog stood there for a second, as if he was about to say something, but instead, he pulled out his bare pe*is and made it swirl in a circle right there at the booth! 

I rocked back and forth for a full minute before letting out an explosive laugh! I'm not going to lie, I peed on myself a little. 

"Brother Bulldog, what are you doing?!" his frat brother exclaimed before pushing him away from the table. 

Needless to say, Bells didn't think that the incident was funny then, and she definitely doesn't think it is funny now. 

"If I see him at homecoming, I am going to scream," she told me the week or so before we were to leave for New Orleans. 

"He's married with kids now. I'm sure he's not still whipping out his ween and showing it to people," I offered. 

"I don't care," she said sternly. 

It is so funny how times have changed. If Bulldog had tried that today with a girl, he would have been arrested, thrown out of school, canceled, then put in a rocket and shot to the sun, and no one would have thought twice about it. Back then, the whole thing was just a highlight in a night out story to be told over breakfast. 

I assumed that Bulldog was going to be at homecoming, and I was right. He is full of school spirit, and he is also cool with one of Bells's best buds. At some point during the tailgate, her friend facilitated a brief convo between the two that, according to Bells, ended in a handshake. 

"See. Now you all are besties," I joked. 

"I wouldn't go that far," she griped. 

Here's hopin' 😊

Homecoming Post 2: Cane the Kappa- The Untold Story

I believe in aliens. I believe that at one point, dolphins could walk and talk like humans. And, because my grandma is from the Midwest, I believe that spaghetti and fried fish is an actual meal. But I think what makes me truly delulu is the imaginary anything I have created in my mind with Cane the Kappa. 
I remember when I first saw Cane, and this was before he became a Kappa. He was walking behind St. Jo with a bunch of volleyballs or basketballs or something. I know nothing about sports. He was unassuming, just a tall, thin, very light-skinned boy taking a stroll with a bunch of balls. He was cute, and I decided, in accordance with fulfilling my personal goal of becoming besties with only hot guys, I would approach him next year, my sophomore year, when I came back to school skinny , and make him my friend. Let's just say that the Kappas got to him before this goal could be actualized. I remember his probate show. I knew it was him before he took off his little disguise. The dream died, and he became XU-famous. This is all just background for the story I'm about to tell you now, which led to me having a question for him for 23 years. 
THE STORY
One very early morning in 2004 or 5, I was thrown out of the 24-hour study room for falling asleep and snoring. I walked out the side of the library, passed the tennis courts, and around to where the old student center used to be. There was an AKA seating situation over there, and I saw Cane canoodling with Pretty Africa, that super-tall AKA who used to wear kente prints with her Greek gear. They looked so in love, and the sight made me smile all the way back to the dorm. If Cane and I were not meant to be, at least he would be with someone cool. I couldn't wait to see them during the day as a couple, but never did. It dawned on me that I had probably witnessed the fruit of a secret love affair like from the soap operas! I wanted to ask him about it, but he was ALWAYS with the Kappas, which I could have handled if it weren't for the little mean one. But not the one you are thinking of, the other one. 
THE CONVERSATION 
My conversation with Cane left me with more questions than answers. It was hot the day of the tailgate, and watching people try to stay cool was making me feel hotter. I just happened to look over my shoulder, and there was Cane, walking alone, just as I'd first seen him years earlier, only with no balls. He also looked shorter. 
"Cane!" I called.
To my surprise, he walked over to me and gave me a church hug. He was drinking out of a beer can in a paper bag, and he wore a designer fanny pack across his chest like a Girl Scout sash. 
"I have a question for you, one question, two parts," I began. "I've been wanting to ask you this question for years."
I have to admit, I was excited. I wanted the tea on what I assumed was a whirlwind romance between him and Pretty Africa. 
"Okay," he said. It was a million degrees, and he just seemed so chill. His New Orleans accent was THICK. The only way it could sound more New Orleans is if it was coming out of an alligator's mouth. 
"Did you have a secret girlfriend when we were in school?" I asked. 
"Yes, but she was a *#$5@," he said. 
*#$5@?
"It wasn't Pretty Africa?" I asked. 
He shook his head. "Naw, you have me confused with my line brother. He looks exactly like me."
"Oh yeah? He has your same skin and long hair?"
"Yep." Before you ask no, there was no Kappa while we were there that looked anything like him at all. My bs-o-meter began to go off in my left foot, although it could have been diabetic nerve pain. 
"I don't remember that for real," he said, "unless I was drunk." 
Side eye. Blame it on the alcohol.
"I have another question," I said. "Is it true that you are a literal Million-Dollar Nupe? That you won the lottery?"
He shrugged. "Yeah, but it was just a small jackpot."
And then, just like that, he was gone. This guy is a riddle wrapped in a poem dressed in Prada/Gucci. 
I assume it will be another 23 years before I talk to him again. I guess he went back to the Kappa tent after we talked, but I imagine he called Pretty Africa immediately to tell her that their jig was up and to hide their big lotto winnings. Like I said, I'm delulu. 

Homecoming Post 1: Envying Scalene

I decided to take a break from watching sex scenes in F-grade Tubi movies long enough to go to homecoming this year. I was a little apprehensive about going for several reasons, but was very excited once I arrived. The atmosphere was electric, so I happily walked onto campus and smack dab into Scalene. There are some women so attractive that they make other women feel like dirt by merely existing, and that woman is Scalene for me. Of course, I'd run into her while having the worst hair day of my life. 

"Hey beautiful!" she exclaimed, giving me a hug. 

Beautiful. The nerve of this chick. Where does she get off calling me beautiful? 

"Hey girl!" I said through clenched teeth. 

You will be excited to know that she looks younger now than she did in college, and she has become one of those insufferable 40-year-old women who wear crop tops. But why wouldn't she be? In college, she was already prettier than most of us and had a better body, yet she wore perfect makeup just to step on our necks. I didn't see her husband there, but don't get excited. They are still together. However, not seeing him made me think of her college boyfriend, whom I was in love with, along with 99 other guys. 

"I'm going to take him from you," I'd said jokingly, not jokingly, to her back in the day in the cafe. 

She smiled at me and said, "You should try it." Then she bit down on a French fry and winked at me. Can we just have a moment to meditate on how obnoxious that was?

But even that could be forgiven if she'd get fat, just once. I feel like that would give me the spiritual healing that I so desperately need. Her success, cheery disposition, and positive attitude definitely aren't doing the trick. 

I can hear you all now. "But Holly, if there are things about yourself you don't like, why not work on those things instead of investing time in being envious of others?" I hear that. And to that I say, "Bite me." Saturday, I watched her twerk with her friends while I kicked myself for not bringing Tiger Balm to lather my knees with. Bite. Me. 

All and all, I was happy that I got to see old Scalene and do some catching up. Envious or not, it's always a pleasure to see a Xavier sister looking and doing well.