And now I'm telling eight year old stories. It was 95, I was a junior in high school. Putnam City North. Home of the panthers and other bits of so what. Back then, orchestra was fun. I was a Violist, and though not the best in the school, the person who got the most enjoyment out of performing. 2nd chair isn't so bad if pleasure is more important than 1st chair. And when it came to performing I wallowed in pleasure. It was something that I enjoyed in a school full of things I hated. But these are dreary concerns for another day. It was Monica's birthday. And being the orchestra nerd that she was, she invited orchestra kids. Perhaps there were others there who weren't symphonists, but I don't remember them. I was hasty. Here I am calling Monica a nerd. But she was only a nerd because she played violin. Other than that she was one of the coolest kids in orchestra. Not me though. I wasn't cool and I didn't attempt to be. Monica, Asia, and Allison. Three very cool ladies. Asia was also a violinist and Allison played viola like me. Third sometimes fourth chair. She and my sister switched around every other audition. Yes, my sister is a violist as well. So there we all are at Monica's 16th birthday. Woodstock is on the television. The original, on tape. Monica, Asia, and Allison's parents were all hippies. Ergo the coolness saturation. Monica, Asia, and Allison, and their friend Laura. Laura was a different breed of girl. You would have sworn she was gay, if she hadn't been so unbendingly straight. That's the best description for Laura. A dyke trapped in a straight girl's body. She wasn't a closet case; she was just very masculine in her femininity. The girl wore boy's jeans slung low on her hips and she walked like a she had the biggest pair of nuts this side of the football team. No makeup, no hair stuff... not that girls need this stuff, but on Laura it only accentuated the fact that you might think she would kick your ass. But her eyes twinkled. They sparkled. If you caught her in a good mood, or if you could make her laugh, her eyes were bright and clear. But they unfortunately didn't make up for everything else. Laura was 6th chair. Yes, she played viola also. So there I am at Monica's sweet 16. Everyone's chatting. A good time is being had. Laura and I are sitting at a table talking about this and that. She has an idea. A game to play. A simple game of hangman. I agree. Why not? It's entertaining. Sure of course. So we trade back and forth: her winning a game, me winning, her, me, me, her. Her turn. She marks down _____ ___ ____ __ __ ___. "A"? I guess. No "A"s. I get a head. "O"? I guess. _o____ _o_ ____ _o _o o__. Great, vowel jackpot. "E"? _o___ _o_ ___e _o _o o__. "I"? _o___ _o_ _i_e _o _o o__. "U"? _ou__ _ou _i_e _o _o ou_. I should have been paying better attention. "R"? I get a body. "S" I get an arm. "G"? _ou__ _ou _i_e _o go ou_. "M"? Another arm. "L"? _oul_ _ou li_e _o go ou_. Oh fuck. I see the answer. I don't want to win this game now. "Q"? I get a leg. "B"? I get another leg. "C"? I get a foot. She's getting desperate. "N"? Another foot? "F"? She starts giving the man little fingers. I'm running out of letters, and I'm pretty sure that she knows I'm trying to lose on purpose. "A"? You already guessed that. I did? Sorry. Do you know what it says? Maybe, I say, I think I might. Well, then quit trying to lose. "K" I say. "G" I say. "D". "T". "Y". The only thing saving me now is the fact that I'm guessing as slowly as possible. I already know that I want the answer to be "No," but I also know that I don't have the guts. "W". So? Um, sure, I guess. We went to a pool hall on our date, and we saw Star Trek: Generations. Because we are nerds. All in all it was okay. But I preferred Laura as my friend. Years later, working at TGI Fridays, I worked with this girl Julie. She was 5 years older than me, and her cheeks were a little pockmarked, but she was cute and funny and talkative and smart and studying to be a teacher. One night after work, we head out to go drink at a co-worker's house. Well, she was going to drink, and I was was the responsible DD. We stop by her apartment so she can change out of her uniform, then she says she needs to stop by her mom's house to grab some alcohol that she left there. We drive up to her house. This neighborhood looks really familiar. Oh fuck. Julie hops out of the car and runs up to Laura's house. She takes out her key and goes in. She comes out, gets in the car and I am aghast. Dumbfounded. "What"? she says. You're related to Laura Hall? Yeah, she's my little sister. Julie already knew about the date years back and the way that Laura had tricked me with a game of hangman. She told me that she had found out who I was from Laura when she mentioned "the new waiter at work" at her mom's house one day. She thought that I knew. They had the same last name. "Nope," I told her. I had never put one and one together. I hadn't even been aware that there were two ones to be added together. She laughed and her eyes sparkled. They twinkled. She laughed and laughed. Not at me, but at her sister's awkward attempt at a relationship. Well, yeah, and at me.