If the Birkenstock Fits


Shmenn and I were taking the next step in our relationship — because the last one had gone so well. Anyone else remember last time’s proposal mishap? I’ve been trying to wipe it from my memory for years now.

What really led to my moving in with Shmenn was a few things. My lease was up, she was a leasing agent and could get us the “hook up” if you will, and my current roommate/soon to be ex best friend decided to break up with Courtney and me.

*Theme music and opening credits play*

No, you heard me right, break up. She sat us down after seven years of friendship — 1/3 of my life — and said, “You’re just not the type of people I seek out as friends.” I was a little thrown. WHAT DO YOU MEAN? There is no seeking. We did that freshman year of high school. We’d already found each other… Back when I got sat next to this lanky girl with a Naruto backpack, who fell asleep every day in Biology, and wrote crazy Christian fanatic notes about how evolution was a lie and God put dinosaurs on the earth to “test our faith.” Like some big cosmic scavenger hunt. Newsflash, that isn’t a test, a test is when your girlfriend says she “doesn’t want anything for Valentine’s Day” (which is code for, you better get me something for Valentine’s Day and not fuck this up), dinosaurs are science.

I’m not really sure why I saw this weirdo and befriended her, but I did. We were on the basketball team together but honestly I was afraid she was going to murder me as a sacrifice to the One True God and then wear my skin to her birthday. But after all those red flags and things we didn’t have in common, I chose to be her friend — and now she wanted to get rid of me??

Fast forward 7 years. We had been besties throughout high school. She somehow didn’t have an aneurism when Courtney and I both came out as gay (though her mom did offer to pray for me which is the most annoying response ever to coming out, in my oh-so-gay-opinion). And we proceeded to go to college together where we had the same major, lived in the same dorm and went on to share two apartments together. I think we had established that yes, we were EXACTLY the type of people we sought out in friendships, we might’ve actually been pretty damn good at this whole friendship thing.

But here we were, breaking up. I tried to take it in stride, knowing I had always been a good friend to her, but it felt like betrayal, and kind of like losing a family member. Her words were thinly veiled homophobia and code for “I’ve met boys and everyone assumes I’m gay when I’m with you, but I like the D, so I need to hang with a less rainbow crowd.” No really, this was the underlying issue. But we weren’t the issue, the issue was: her avid plaid wearing, her beanie collection that rivaled that of Shawn White, coupled with “boyish” interests in things like video games and sports, come on now… if the Birkenstock fits.

So with no extra roommate it was either Courtney and me against the world or move in with Shmenn — the latter seemed more financially responsible and not altogether like the worst idea ever.

Our apartment was a little ways away from campus, all of our neighbors were gay (the leasing agent totally stereotyped us. Oh wait, Shmenn leased us this place…) and it seemed like despite the rescinded ring exchange me and Shmenn were “fine.”

If you’re ever in a relationship that you describe as “fine” —  get out. “Fine” isn’t your soulmate, “fine” is…well…fine.

Pride was coming up, as was my final semester in school. I had my entire adult life to look forward to.

I got too comfortable.

Next week on Nobody Scissors… when you’re right, you’re right. 


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