long lost friends

Do you remember the exact moment you become friends with someone? What happens in that brief moment of time when you meet a person that ends up determining the next years of your life?

....

It was a tough decision, deciding where to go to college. The world was my oyster: I believed I could do anything I set my mind to. So, coming from a less moneyed background, I decided to go to a college that helped pay my way. GMI.

It was 1990, and I applied at the last minute to one place. A very exclusive engineering college. The main draw was the fact that you had to get hired by a company in order to go there. Can we say income=tuition? GMI used to stand for General Motors Institute. GM sold it so the acronym was one no longer, and the college was just called GMI Engineering and Management University. Now it is Kettering University, but whatever.

My application was accepted, and GM hired me in their facilities department. So off I went. Fresh out of an all-girls high school to a 75% male college. Awesome.

Irony, my best friends there ended up being guys. Dewey and Paco. Not their real names. They were in the same dorm unit together, and the first night we were all there they were given those names for practically no reason. No reason, but the names stuck.

Honestly I don't remember meeting them. I don't know how we became friends. All I know is that the two semesters I spent at that college, they were my best friends. We were THE hardcore rockstar party group. At least in our section of our year.

They both pledged Sigma Chi, and I didn't pledge a sorority. I rushed, but why limit myself to one set of parties when I was welcome at all? Madness.

Time passed, and tuition was raised. I left GMI my sophomore year for a cheaper college, kept the GM gig. I went to Dewey's wedding (awesome) and introduced Paco to his future wife (also awesome.)

These two people meant the world to me for an entire year. And back then a year was a lifetime. They were a part of me, and they helped to shape who I am today. Yet I have not spoken to either in years. Probably a decade.

There are so many stories.

Dewey wandering around in his underwear, losing his wallet because he just threw it somewhere when he was drunk.

Paco getting so wasted on everclear that he could not sit down on a staircase, he would just slide.

Dewey torturing Tuber, the ultimate geek with tube socks that clasped the bet to his backpack.

Paco drinking an entire fifth of Mescal including the worm, then throwing it all back up and being given the worm again the next day.

Hypercolor shirts. Sid and Nancy. Def Leopard. The Jerk.

Ironically, their names were Brian and Ryan. But they were never known by their real names. Me? I was always Bridget. But I didn't need a nickname, because I was part of a group. We were a solid unit of fun, and it was spectacular.