Joey Ramone Turned Me Lesbian

This is a personal narrative based loosely on actual events... I'm probably not going to get into details about. Almost everyone from my life was crammed in here; so if you want to know who this chick is, back off. You don't know her, and everyone I ever knew was somehow a part of this

"She looks very much like someone who could kick yer ass. What's more, she looks like someone who should kick yer ass. And you'd better like it.

I secretly harvest a hope she'll charge + put my bf of the moment into a headlock, then force him to relinquish me. She could take me home and we'd jump on her bed to Tracy + the Plastics all night long. That would make a better story than, say, 'We met through a mutual friend of a friend.' She could hold my hand just a little too tight while I tell everyone about how, 'and then she threatened to snap his neck if we didn't date.'

She'd be really shy about all the right things, like her childhood hell and where those other four piercings are located on her beautiful body. And honestly, I could always wonder to myself whether or not she was lying about everything. Maybe she wasn't even 19, like she would have told me. Her name could've been Karen, or Sunflower, and I wouldn't ever know the difference.

She'd be my sister, my secret idol, my best + only friend. But I'd never tell her all this; we would only let the secret out when she'd hold my warm body wrapped up against hers. Or when we walk back to the train station after getting kicked out of the show for hurting too many boys in the pit. Or when my lips nervously navigated their way around her pierced mouth. Or when she'd explore me with an inexplicable vigor. I'd always wonder what her real intentions are. She'd be too sexy, fast, or dangerous for me. I would know all this. But who cared.

My family could meet her. Of course they wouldn't get along; they'd mistrust her for the blue hair and hand holding. She'd mistrust them for the cuts on my legs and the nic fits I'd get late at night. She'd mean well, obviously. Anything that happened to me would happen to her, but worse; she'd blame herself for all the wrongs everyone but she had done unto me. When she would finally turn around and take her turn at hurting me, she'd be long gone + would never know it.

Sleater-Kinney would play while we made love. Bikini Kill would play while we drove aimlessly looking for some fun on a slow autumn night. We'd fight over Beth Ditto.

No one would like us, but we'd crash their parties even if they did. I would only find out about those angry looks later. All the boys + girls had had their hearts smashed into the ground by her Doc Martins in the years previous.

When finally we did meet our untimely end, it would be okay, but it would devastate me. No more cocaine and bad acid trips. No more headaches + afternoon hangovers in unknown bathrooms. My hair would have recovered from her haircuts + I would've given up cutting and Cloves for camomile + a nice boy from Lit class.

She would be gone just like that.

She would have showed up out of nowhere, and left me with an old amp of hers and a vibrator. Hell, it would've been worth it though.

Because honestly, one more sentence about Joey Ramone will push me over the edge. "

© 2007 Lucia Doyle