I met Cynthia in the Hall of Languages at Syracuse University during my Freshman year while waiting for a music appreciation class in which we were both enrolled. Despite my complete lack of "game," I struck up a conversation with the tall, attractive Asian woman and was completely floored when she started speaking with this very upper crust, very proper British accent. We carried on conversations before and after class and somehow I got her phone number and a suggestion of a movie or dinner.
I called her up and set up the date. She wanted to see "Pretty Woman"; I wanted to see "Drugstore Cowboy" (did I mention that I had no game - nothing says great first date than a movie about junkies who rob drug stores which has as a main actor the author and notorious junkie William S. Burroughs). I reluctantly agreed on "Pretty Woman."
I arrived at her off campus house and was greeted at the door by one of her roommates who was clad in what I can best describe as a black negligee which struck me as a little odd. Before we left, Cynthia sat down and had what I took as a very odd look on her face. She said she needed to talk with me before we left. The conversation went something like this:
CYNTHIA: I need to talk to you about something.
ME: OK
CYNTHIA: You know, this is a very gay house?
ME: Um, OK. I thought your roommate was interesting, but um, OK.
CYNTHIA: Yeah, there's only one straight person who lives here, do you know who that is?
ME: Wild guess, you?
CYNTHIA: No.
ME: Oh.
CYNTHIA: Do you still want to go to the movie?
ME: Sure. Talk about no pressure on a date!
The movie pretty much sucked, but we had fun. Although I did not get a girlfriend, I did get a great friendship with someone who would become one of my best friends throughout college.
They say that friends help you move and best friends help you move the body. Well, there were no bodies, but I did help Cynthia move on three occasions. So, she was a pretty big deal to me, obviously.
The first of these moves was from the house where I met her to another apartment a little further off campus. She offered to let me be her roommate, and part of me really wishes that I had accepted, but I had already agreed to move to another house nearby and I didn't want to break my word. It's probably for the best, since I was not a very good roommate (hell I was barely housebroken) and it probably would have done severe damage to our friendship had I moved in.
After making what seemed to be endless trips back and forth between the two locations and moving a very large and very uncomfortable couch up a windy flight of stairs, Cynthia offered to treat me to pizza and beer as my reward for helping her move. It was here that I learned that my friend was in fact a bad ass.
We picked up some pizza from the local pizzeria. We then went to the nearby Wegman's supermarket and she bought a six pack of Sopporro Dry (which actually is pretty damn good beer). Since I was the innocent age of 19, I sat by the door of the supermarket while Cynthia made the purchase. I noticed a commotion between Cynthia and the cashier and inquired as to what was going on.
Here's how it transpired. Cynthia, a native of Hong Kong, produced her Hong Kong drivers' license, which did not for some reason contain a photo. She supplemented this with her Student ID which did contain a photograph. The cashier stated politely that he could not accept the Hong Kong drivers' license as it did not have her photograph and the SU ID did not have a birth date. Cynthia became outraged. How dare this little man who was nothing but a glorified bag boy not accept what was a legal document simply because it came from another country? She demanded in no uncertain terms to see the manager of the establishment. The manager came out, inspected the documents, noted the outrage and offense of my friend and not only allowed her to purchase the six pack, but apologized profusely for the store's mistake and gave her the beer without charge.
As we were leaving I noticed a bit of a sly smile on Cynthia's face. I commiserated with her as to how outrageous the incident was and that I couldn't believe that the cashier wouldn't accept her drivers' license. It was then that Cynthia told me that the drivers' license was fake and that she was actually only 20.
I was dumbfounded. I mean seriously, how many of us when confronted with the situation where we were in fact busted would not only not accept that fact, but would up the ante so much that not only would we escape the situation, but escape the situation not only with the beer in hand, but the beer in hand for free! I was in complete and utter awe.
Like I said - 100% BAD ASS!!!!!!!!!
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