I was five years old, in kindergarten, and I didn't really get the whole "little kid thing".
At the time, I was an only-child, and regardless of the fact that I went to day care and had countless babysitters since I was one month old, I didn't really know how to relate to other kids my age all that much.
I wasn't into sports, never watched the same shows they watched and had never heard of games like hop-scotch, "Jacks" (still have no fucking clue what that is), Four Corners, leap-frog.
I didn't know what a jungle-gym was...I always played on "monkey bars".
For the most part - I always played by myself, alone in my own little world.
My favorite toy was a tape recorder and I used to tape myself talking and telling stories, and play it back for hours on end.
When I was two and three, I'd beg my mother to turn on the vaccum cleaner and hair dryer, then go play in my room.
After 10 minutes of the roaring sound of electronic air-blowing-gadgets getting under my mom's skin, she'd shut them off, thinking I was by now distracted in my room.
The second she hit the off switch, I was out, crying for her to turn them back on.
Most kids were pulled kicking and screaming from the toy department when they were little.
I was pulled, full-tantrum mode - from the vaccum demonstration section.
I was that little kid who used to dress up in his winter snow suit on the hottest July day and insist we go to the park.
I was "alternative". Hahhaha..just kidding.
But I was kind of a weird kid.
Weren't we all.
So yeah - me and the other kids - for the most part - didn't see eye-to-eye on much.
Anyway, one of my first friends was this little girl named Melissa.
The thing I remember most about Melissa was her long, thick curly hair, which she always had in pig tails. She had the longest hair of anyone I'd ever seen.
Her pigtails were always tied with these little elastic ties, with small, round plastic balls on the end, they almost looked like glass.
She always had those and I always thought they looked chewable and I had to fight back the urge to pluck one out and try to chew it.
Too much info.
She said she never got a hair cut because she was afraid.
"Afraid of what?" I used to think, but left it alone.
She thought it would hurt, she hated scissors.
Fair enough.
One day, a kid in my class took a pair of safety scissors to Melissa's hair and snipped off a LARGE lock of her golden brown hair.
She bawled for hours, her head down on her desk, green snot running from her nose.
I was heart-broken.
Of course - I started crying as well.
That happened a lot back when I first started school.
I was pretty much left to my own devices, but when I would see other kids who I thought were nice being picked on, I'd bawl right along with them because I felt so bad for them.
The teachers told my parents I was a very sensitive child.
Turns out - I was gay. But that wasn't an issue until years later.
Anyway - it ended up - Melissa had to go home for the day because she was so upset and I got to stay in from recess and colour in my book because I felt so sad and was so shaken by how upset she was.
So after that, I always had a little soft spot for poor cute Melissa.
As far as memories of her and I together - i don't really have too many, save for the hair-cutting-crying-incident.
But there is one.
As far as I can remember, she was pretty much a loner kid as well.
All the kids always had "recess snacks".
Except me.
Not that my parents starved me, or we were too poor to buy snacks..
I just never had them.
But I always envied the kids who pulled out fruit roll ups and ding-dongs and those little chocolate cupcakes from hostess with the white swirly icing on top.
YUM.
Anyway, one day at recess she came up to my spot against the wall and offered me one of those twin chocolate cupcakes.
I was floored because a) I had never had one and b) it was so nice of her - because kids are little cheapskates when it came to recess snacks.
Either you traded for something better - or you swallowed that thing whole before anyone kicked your ass for it.
No one actually "shared" with others who didn't have anything to give in return.
But Melissa did.
So there we were - two kids with no real friends, sharing a pack of cupcakes.
It was one of the first times I actively remember how just a simple, out-of-the-blue act of being "kind" to someone, can make such a PROFOUND impact. I always smiled at her after that, and she always smiled at me. We never talked, never sat near each other - just smiled in passing.
I knew she was a nice person - a genuinely nice person. And that was it.
Next September - she was gone.
Transferred schools.
Kids came and went every year but there's always a few who make a bit of an impact, even if that impact consists of one main memory of her having her hair cut and green snot coming out of her nose.
Or a random, unprompted act of kindness.
Cut to seventeen years later...I was twenty-two years old, in second year University taking a psychology course that I hated.
It was the first day. I was nervous.
A loner, as usual. Didn't know anyone. Didn't know why I was there.
Didn't like school. Just wanted to go home and play CDs. Go to my friend's house and smoke pot. Look up Liz Phair info on my new 'internet' computer.
This chick walks into the room (I was the first one in class that day) and sat down in a seat RIGHT next to me.
"Fuckin' jesus christ," I thought to myself. "Why is it - there's a whole fucking ROOM full of empty seats - and she chooses to sit directly next to me?"
I shifted away from her slightly in my seat, annoyed.
The room filled shortly after and class began.
The teacher passed out forms for us to fill out - and I began to write my name.
D-A-N M-A-C-D-O -
"OH my GOD!! It
IS you!!!!!" I heard the girl next to me say.
I slowly looked out of the corner of my eye and saw that the chick who sat next to me was looking at me.
"I'm sorry?" I asked.
She was laughing and staring at me, shaking her head as if she couldn't believe her eyes.
"I can't believe it!! You look EXACTLY the same!! EXACTLY the same!!!"
"How do I know you...?" I asked, a little worried.
I had no CLUE who this girl was and my memory (so I thought) is the most (and possibly only) reliable thing about me.
"It's Melissa!!"
"Melissa....?" I asked...still unsure, but a flicker of recognition in her face, in her smile - kind eyes.
Then it hit me who she was.
"Oh my GOD!!! Melissa!! Holy...how the HELL are you??? Jesus..it's been...like...twenty years...."
I could not believe it. She remembered me. After ALL that TIME, with only one class picture of us as five year olds. She remembered me.
"You look the exact same! oh my god!! I can't believe it." She was amazed. She said I hadn't aged a day.
I secretly hoped I still didn't look like a dorky five year old loner, but took it as a compliment.
She had the same face - but her long golden brown hair turned into a very dark brown above-the shoulder bob.
She looked fantastic.
We decided to have lunch together to catch up - even though - we never really knew each other to begin with anyway. I was curious what her memories of me would be.
She said she remembered me being really talkative and animated. She remembered me being in a class play in kindergarten, and how I got the "lead" role by accident because I was imitating the way this one kid raised his hand in class, the teacher mistook it for me volunteering myself for the lead role.
She also remembered playing "Muppets" at recess - and the one time I played - I insisted on being "Animal", the wild and crazy drummer.
I had absolutely NO recollection of this at all - but she insisted it was me - KNEW it was me.
We really didn't have MUCH in common, save for very small gradeschool memories - the kinds that five year olds have - about other kids in the class. She updated me on a few people who I hadn't heard of in years and I did the same.
She was so excited though...you could tell that time of her life was probably one she thought of often, as do I. So that was cool.
We became "class-friends" and soon, our friendship turned into more of a school-related relationship, rather than a nostalgia trip.
The semester ended and that was pretty much the last time I saw her for the rest of my miserable University career.
Cut to five years later....I am now 27 years old, annoyed employee of a shitty furniture store, half-assed sometimes-writer for a magazine that is slowly losing it and a drunk. Just kidding.But....I just happened to be out at the Loop one night, on a particularily wild night of shotties, martoonies and free pitchers of beer from my favorite bartender.
I'm out on the dancefloor - something I do with less frequency - which is proably a bad thing...when someone grabs me.
Melissa!
She looked fantastic. She is now a teacher. Engaged. Doing wonderful.
She was as enthusiastic and happy to see me as she was five years before, in university.
She asked if she could have my number so we could hang out (yes, she knew i was gay) and I said sure - I would have to find a pen.
And that was it.
As fate would have it - I couldn't find her again.
So that's that.
It's weird though.
Her and I really have nothing much in common. We never really spoke to each other for the short year we knew each other in kindergarten. We grew up in completely different and detatched lives. But we always remembered each other and for some reason, are always happy to see each other when we are reunited - as if we were old, long-time friends.
I guess in a way, we kind of are.
Even if our biggest and greatest moment was just two scared five year olds standing by a brick wall watching a bunch of other kids that we didn't quite understand, sharing a pack of hostess cupcakes.
