Living in the city has been a trip. Sure, she's from New York but come on, New York City is still a whole different story from Long Island. So when she got accepted to NYU, she was pretty psyched. Plus she managed to get lucky in the roommate lottery. She's heard horror stories from her best friend Sheila in Berkeley about her nightmare living with this hippie vegan activist type who lit incense everywhere and never showered. Like, ever.
Her roommate is a total sweetheart. Name's Rachel and she's from this little town in Ohio. Yeah, she's a little intense and the warbling at weird hours of the night got old real fast. Tip for people with music majors as roommates: set up a practice schedule. Your eardrums will love you and you won't have to spend Calculus I humming the entire soundtrack of Wicked. But otherwise, they get along great. She's smart, kind and talented and after all that exposure to those pipes, she can honestly say those bitches on Broadway would have to be crazy not to snap up this girl ASAP.
So yeah, she's become kinda close with Rachel. She even nicknamed her 'Barbie' because of her middle name plus the fact that she is so far removed (in an awesome way) from any of those pretty, plastic blonde airheads she went to high school with.
It's been four months and they pretty much know each other's life stories by now. At first, she was a little surprised to find out that Rachel is still with her high school boyfriend. The guy's name is Noah and he's in college in Rochester Still undeclared, according to Rachel (and don't even let the girl get started on that). Rachel didn't seem to be one of those girls who held on to their high school sweethearts but she can tell that they really seem to be in love. Apparently, he was going to be finished with his exams earlier and he would be driving to the city before they would fly to Ohio together for winter break. The wait since they last saw each other this Thanksgiving has Barbie all antsy. Hell, the cooing whispers and suspicious blushing that goes on whenever he calls is enough evidence that these two need to get together. And fast.
So yeah, Rachel misses her boyfriend.
She just didn't know how much.
It's the night after their last finals and fuck yeah, they're celebrating. She's managed to drag Rachel from the dorms and out into the Village for some well-deserved booze. Sure, she had to do it with her semi-uptight roommate kicking and screaming about underage drinking but after a few vodka tonics, the protests stopped.
After the 5th one, she thinks Rachel's had enough celebrating. She's all quiet and fidgety, which is so unlike her it's a little scary. She sighs and says their goodbyes to the little group from their hall at the table so that she can bring the very intoxicated Rachel Barbara Berry back home.
They're teetering along in high heels along Washington Place when Rachel pipes up for the first time in half an hour. "I love my Noah. He's my boyfriend, did I ever tell you that?"
She laughs in surprise. "No, I don't think you have, Barbie," she says, humoring her.
"He's wonderful," Rachel says dreamily. Well, as dreamily as a drunk was ever gonna get. "I fucking miss him," and at this, she's cursing the fact that she didn't have the foresight to record this because Rachel never, ever swears. "Rochester is really, really, really far. It's like…far."
"I know, Barb. Look, we're almost there, okay? When we get home, you can like call your really, really far boyfriend and tell him you miss him." Rachel quiets down again at this and yes, they're finally at their residence hall. They have just stumbled into their room when Rachel starts up again and if this night has taught her anything, it's that alcohol dissolves any kind of filter Rachel has left.
"I miss him," Rachel pouts when she drops down on her bed. "And I miss his penis."
She chokes loudly on air but Rachel just continues along like she hasn't heard her. "His penis is perfect. P-E-R-F-E-C-T. I want to put it in a shoebox and place cotton balls around it to protect it from any harm. Or knit it a little hat," she slurs from behind her mountain of pillows.
Then she starts singing a made-up song about the little knit hat. There's some stuff in there about slushies and cock and a little tra-la-laing, some serious vocalization (Barbie's got mad pipes) and giggling before it becomes one long droning snore. She manages to drop a blanket over the passed-out girl before she drops off herself…accompanied by dreams of penises securely wrapped in boxes.
When Rachel wakes up the next morning with the mother of all hangovers, she doesn't say a word about the little (okay, it's obviously not little) conversation they had last night. She figures it's just going to be one of those things they are never going to talk about. Ever.
Besides, today's the day they get to go home for Hannukah/Christmas/what-have-you and everyone is getting ready to go home. Rachel's saying goodbye to the girls from across the hall when there is a knock on the door. She opens the door and really, the photograph on Rachel's bedside table does not do the man justice. Just…unf.
He gives her this smirk that should really be illegal and…yeah. If she had a guy that looked like that, she'd be knitting little hats too. Just then, Rachel comes in and she's squealing and this guy Noah's face has the most beautiful smile on it as his girlfriend just jumps on him.
She rolls her eyes at the two idiots practically rutting right in front of her. She shakes his hand before excusing herself because she still has a train home to catch. But just before she leaves, she takes Rachel aside to whisper a few things in her ear.
"You were right – he is P-E-R-F-E-C-T." She winks and from the blush currently spreading on Rachel's face, she totally remembers her drunken confessions. "From one Jew to another…mazel tov."