September 05, 2003 - 2:14 a.m.
We're sitting under the bright white lights in Panchero's Mexican Restaurant downtown East Lansing, looking at each other, and talking about our pasts.
The three of us share the things jammed in our wallets (which say a lot about an individual, don't you think?) and talk about the funny memories associated with them, or talk about the people whose pictures are jammed into those little plastic sleeves.
It's about 1:20 a.m. in this college town, and Panchero's is the last refuge for drunken students seeking food to offset the alcohol they've been drinking all night.
But the three of us are not drunk, just enjoying each other's company, when a girl in the back of the restaurant yells, "Shut up motherf***er!" Now, her... she's drunk. Oh yeah.
"Hey, Camille," I say to one of my friends, "those were the people who made fun of US in high school."
I can't take credit for the line --- it comes from another friend who said it to me the night the war in Iraq broke out. We had just finished putting together the newspaper, and the rush of the evening forced us to skip dinner. By the time we got out of work at 1:30 a.m., Panchero's was the only thing open. And the drunks were there then, too.
Camille and my friend Elissa laugh at the hoochie-mama (it's a technical term) making a fool of herself in the corner and the three of us go on talking.
That's when I realized something: I have some really great friends up here. Great for several reasons. (1) We can sit in Panchero's and talk without being too intoxicated to remember the conversation in the morning. (2) We can share the stories behind the objects in our wallet. Some are funny, some are personal, but we're comfortable enough to talk about it, the three of us. (3) We came from the bar too, but unlike the girl in the back of the restaurant (who by this time has her arms wrapped around the guy she's with and is saying "Wheeeee!") we know when to stop, which is long before we get anywhere near her level of stupidity.
So we sit in the restaurant talking. I eat my quesedilla, Elissa munches on her rice, and Camille, well, I guess she was just along for the company, because she didn't order anything.
I've missed you, MSU. It's good to be back.
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