Mastering Memphis, step two

The bubble did extend to Memphis. To be fair, though, not to all of Memphis, just part (the part I was in). And, to be honest, it was in me as well. Based on everything I have learned and experienced here in Memphis - and I hope based on who I am now - I can see that the person I was when I came suffered unknowingly from a few deficiencies. I've dealt with those and I'll cover them here, but first, I had/have to deal with the more pressing early obstacles (for lack of a better term) in my first few years in Memphis: Biff and McFly.

My first exposure to this oddest of odd couples was during the summer before my move to Memphis.  I had been given a number whereby I could speak with Biff about our living arrangements, as Biff and McFly were already living in the apartment we would share.  The conversation was short, but I remember distinctly asking Biff if there was room for a couch that I wanted to bring.  Biff's reply was confusing.  "No," he said, "I have a weight bench."

When it was all over, I would have two years worth of stories and encounters like this.  As they occured, I would literally have at least one per day.  I've forgotten many of them, but there are a few that remain firmly lodged in my memory.

I remember my first few weeks in Memphis vividly.  After moving my stuff to the second bedroom in our two-story town home apartment, my parents and I stuck around to meet my new roommates, the aforementioned Biff and McFly.  I call them that because Biff actually looked a lot like Biff.  McFly was shorter and more animated and the two of them shared a room and spent a lot of time together, so it just makes sense.  We stayed for about an hour getting to know B&M before leaving for dinner.  I remember my dad telling me later, "I don't think you should believe everything [Biff] tells you."  In the weeks before school, I wouldn't.  In fact, I didn't stick around long enough to hear a word.  Every morning, I would wake up early, eat breakfast, and leave the house.  I'd come home for dinner and retire to my room.  In between, I drove around Memphis, trying to figure out where things were located.  At least, that's what I told people.  The truth is,  B&M were spending their free time (read: ALL day) playing a Dungeons & Dragons-type video game on the living room (read: only place to sit besides bedroom) TV (read: only one in the apartment/mine) and I wasn't interested in watching someone else play for 12 hour blocks at a time.  This went on for two weeks.  Wake up, drive around aimlessly, avoid eye contact, repeat.

The night before classes began, there was a meet and greet for new students.  I was sitting at a table with B&M when someone asked what they had done in the weeks off between summer classes and the fall semester.  I answered for them, that their time had been spent primarily playing video games.  Out of nowhere, McFly snapped in my direction, "Take it down, Nick.  Take. It. Down."  Sparing the details (there is a convoluted and totall ridiculous explanation), I quickly learned that avoidance would be my best tactic with B&M.  As an aside, it was an almost daily routine for McFly to pull out a knife from the steak knife set he kept in the kitchen and loudly proclaim that if he ever got into a bar fight, he would come back to the apartment and get a knife then go back and stab someone.

One other story begs retelling.  Later that fall, I returned to the apartment and walked quickly upstairs.  I passed the bathroom and noticed that five whole tomatoes were resting on the floor, each one crushed and slowly oozing juice out on the floor.  The floor was their final resting place, but not the only place they had been.  Five matching streaks of tomato juice stained the far wall of the bathroom, leaving an easy trail to follow.  I turned 180 degrees and risked a glance into the room of Biff and McFly.

"Hey, Biff?  There's tomatoes in the bathroom."
"Yeah, there are."
"Um, do you know why there are tomatoes in the bathroom?"
"Yes."
(waiting)
"Biff, would you care to explain?"
"Well, McFly was singing in the shower."
"And...?"
"I didn't like it."
"I don't follow."
"Well, I told him that if he didn't stop singing, I would throw tomatoes at him."
"Uh huh.  And I take he didn't stop."
"That's right."
"Are you going to clean that up?"
"Maybe later."

There are those who suggested that I married Jesse just so I wouldn't have to live in that apartment anymore.  There are those who told me when I arrived that they had specifically prayed for whoever would be sharing an apartment with B&M.  I say that now I have some really great stories to tell.  It was rarely easy and frequently awkward, but it's a part of my story in Memphis.  It wouldn't be right to just take it down.