The Mischief-Making of Audrey. And what it has done to me.

I've mentioned one of my roommates, Audrey, on this blog already, concerning her friendship hijinks, but I think it's high time I went into greater detail regarding her capacity for mercilessly teasing me and, simultaneously, driving me--quite literally--crazy.

Audrey and I met our second semester of college, both of us having transferred from other places to the Mississippi university we eventually called home, but we didn't become good friends until the end of our sophomore year, when we were both cast in a fellow dance major's spring piece. For at least the first year or so of our friendship, I dealt easily with Audrey's propensity for mischief: she could reverse-shoulder-tap with the best of them (she refers to herself as The Queen of Reverse-Shoulder-Tapping without even a hint of sarcasm), and she often enjoyed pushing me off the sidewalk during our walks to the cafeteria or back to the dormitory. It wasn't until later on that she began showing her true colors--that is, her desire to make me certifiably insane.

Audge lives to scare the daylights out of me. (One of these days, I will actually drop dead of cardiac arrest, and then--THEN--she'll be sorry. Until then, unfortunately, I will just continue to suffer mild heart attacks and wait out a few painful seconds of remembering how to breathe.) After reading my blog post concerning her love for Rachel-scare-attacks, she promptly decided to one-up her personal best. As she was exiting the shower that night, clad only in a towel and a Turbie Twist (the fact that the Feeney household at one time contained twenty-seven Turbie Twists should give you some small clue into her personality), she heard me singing blissfully in the hallway to our apartment, retrieving my keys to open the door. Just before I entered the apartment, she jumped into the storage closet--naked, let's remember, save for only a towel and Turbie Twist--that opens up directly across from my and also another roommate, Kayla's, rooms. Kayla was exiting her room just as I was approaching mine, quite oblivious to the fact that Audrey was waiting for me in the closet. Kayla, upon entering the hallway, made an odd face as I told her hello; I later learned that this was because she was facing the naked Audrey, who was making frantic "Shhh!" motions with her hands. As I paused to tell Kayla hello before entering my room, Audrey jumped out at me, screaming and waving her arms spastically. (Her towel stayed on, thank goodness.)

Naturally, I almost died of fright. I don't think I regained a normal breathing pattern until ten or so seconds after Audrey's attack. Audrey, of course, scampered off to her room, fearing my wrath. Truthfully, I wasn't sure whether to kill her or applaud her intense commitment to giving me a good scare. I mean, really? Naked in the closet? That took dedication.

There's also the time she stole my keys from me in the cafeteria and quickly rode the down escalator before I could snatch them back. Gleefully waiting for me at the bottom of the down escalator, she made sure to pause her antics until I had begun my trek down the escalator; once I was safely in the midst of running after her to the bottom, she quickly placed my keys on a step of the UP escalator. Tiring immediately of this game, I quickly ran down the remaining down escalator steps until I could begin climbing the stairs to the up escalator. As I approached my keys--and, consequently, the top of the escalator--I learned that she'd employed another of our friends, Little Mary, to grab my keys and place them on the down escalator.

This continued for several rounds. I strongly considered killing Audrey at this point, but I tried to remember her redeeming qualities and give her a second chance. This was, obviously, a huge mistake.

Audrey also enjoyed offering to give me a ride from my sorority dorm to various places of interest on campus, since most of our classes and errands coordinated nicely. Unfortunately, most of her enjoyment in this endeavor stemmed from the fact that just as I was approaching her car--nearly grasping the door handle--she would abruptly floor the gas and take off around the spacious parking lot, cackling like an imbecile. Each time she looped around near me again, she'd promise that THIS would be the time she'd actually stop the car and let me inside. Usually, I had to wait it out through three or four "promises" until she let me inside.

When riding inside my car, Audrey was no better behaved. One would think that she'd have the decency to appreciate the fact that I was generously giving her a ride (and NOT forcing her to jump into a moving vehicle), but no--never, in fact. She--and whoever else was riding with us that she could quickly persuade to join in--would begin playing what she referred to as, simply, The Game: that is, alternating between turning on my emergency flashers and blowing my horn at inappropriate moments. I quickly learned to drive with one hand covering my emergency flashers, elbow ominously extended in the direction of anyone who tried to sneak in a horn toot. This was, as you can imagine, very difficult. My fellow drivers probably thought I was crazy, at best, what with sporadic emergency flasher use and long toots of my horn for absolutely no good reason.

And though we've now graduated from college and therefore truly entered adulthood, Audrey hasn't slacked off in the slightest; in fact, she's only upped her game. Apart from scaring me whilst naked in closets, continuing to reverse-shoulder-tap me, and roughly push me into the street, she also enjoys calling me stupid in various ways. One day, while walking through IKEA, Audrey mentioned that she might want to buy a wok. Now, as I've detailed in earlier posts, I know little to nothing about cooking. I'd never heard of a wok before. I made the mistake of alerting Audrey to this fact, innocently asking, "What's a wok?"

Instead of merely answering my question and then going about her daily business, Audrey began poorly imitating my voice--putting it up at least an octave or two--and asking questions that I clearly knew the answers to as if she were me. "What's a wok, Audrey?" she'd ask, smiling like an idiot and tilting her head to the side. "What's stir fry?" "What's Chinese food, Audrey?" "What's a NOODLE?"

Sigh. This is what I put up with on daily basis, I tell you.

Of course, I am not without retaliation. I suppose I should mention that I currently have a framed, poster-size picture of Audrey, circa eleven years old, hanging behind my door in my bedroom. It is truly the most awkward picture ever taken of a child clearly in the most awkward phase of her young life, and it is hanging for all to see. (I suppose I should also mention that I stole this picture from Audrey's house, blew it up at a Kinko's to poster size, and then hung it in the dressing room for all to see and mock during tech week for a dance concert one semester. What can I say? When I'm good, I'm good.)

I almost regret creating this post, as I'm fairly certain it will only further incite Audrey to torment me. But I also need the world to know the truth. Which is that Audrey is, without a doubt, a demon from the innermost bowels of hell.