putting the j in jjosh

When I was 13 the pinncle of my life so far was walking downtown with Amber Stein on Wednesdays after school. She was blonde, pretty and in with the popular kids. We were only pals because I sat next to her in biology and I could make her laugh by cracking jokes about Mr. Loy’s armpit stains. 

I had a huge crush on Amber and it was exciting to spend that half hour with her every week. I was heading downtown anyway because Wednesday was when the new comics came out at the Twilite Zone. After seeing Amber to her door, I would go get that week’s comics and then head over to the Market House where you could get a paper bowl full of thick-cut potato fries for a couple of bucks. The Market House didn’t have seats, but you could stand by one of the big windows overlooking Main Street, and that’s what I’d do, standing there eating potatoes and reading comics and basking in the afterglow of Amber Stein’s presence.

One walk home in particular I remember because she had really bad menstrual cramps and she told me about them. This was weirdly thrilling to the 13 year old me. She asked if I wanted to know what they felt like and I said yes. She took her fist and slowly pushed it into my stomach. It kind of hurt, but I couldn’t believe it! Touching!

Nothing ever came of the crush. I was too nervous, and 13, and really actually more into the comics and the potatoes, both of which seemed a lot safer and less nerve-wracking than Amber Stein.

Later, at our 15 year High School reunion I felt the need to go all sitcom cliché and tell her that I had had a huge crush on her. I told my friend Dave M that this is what I was going to do and he said it was a bad idea. I went over to her. I was wearing a sandy brown turtleneck sweater.

“Hey Amber.”

“Oh, hey Josh.”

“Hey Amber, you know, I just wanted to let you know, I mean, back in junior high when we used to hang out, I had the biggest crush on you.”

“Wow, what do you do now, you look dressed like you’re a writer. You wanna know what I do? I’m a personal care assistant. I go to old people’s homes and wipe their asses basically. It fucking sucks. I get paid to clean up old people’s shit. Can you believe it?”

I got out of there.

When I told Dave M how it all went down he burst out laughing. Thinking about it now it seems weird to me that these two heavily weighted memories of Amber Stein both have to do with bodily functions. Something primal there, fluids and all that.

Best not to think about it too much probably.