Like any awesome female friend I joined Adam and Dave at the strip club last night.   There we sat at the legendary Clermont, posted up at the bar with 12 oz cans of PBR and fists full of single dollar bills.   As for the lap dances.  We opted out, this time.  Come 11AM, after rummaging through the Panski household to collect my belongings and my mind, it was off to the airport once again.  The next stop, New York City.  The next victim, Andrew Michael Burri.  Burri and I go way back.  From Marquette to NYC.  From middle school to college.  Not every story is appropriate for public consumption, but this one makes the cut.

It was high school.  Burri and were both pint size.  Christmas dance was on the horizon.   One day as I exited third period, Burri was there waiting for me with a big smile on his face.  We strolled up the stairs and through the pod.  As we neared Mr. Balding’s classroom he turned to me and popped the question.   “Uhh, so don’t you think it’d be awesome if we went to Christmas dance together?”.  I accepted his proposal without hesitation, the evening was sure to bring a good time.

Although I appear to be laid back on the surface, there lie anal-retentive tendencies deep inside of me.  Those particular tendencies being much more prominent during my high school years.   My belt matched my shoes, which always matched my purse.  My notebooks, folders and textbook covers were all color-coded.  I sported a white backpack, which remained spotless for my entire MSHS career.  It’s true.  I was striving for perfection.

With the goal being perfection, there were three colors that under no circumstances belonged in the same ensemble.  Black, navy blue and dark brown.   Common sense, right?  Not for Burri.   Weeks before the dance I called him up to inform him that I would be sporting a black strapless dress.   Surely this made his part of the deal very simple.  Throw on some black pants, grab a white shirt and top it off with a funky tie.   To me this seemed like a no brainer, but when I showed up for pictures there Burri was.   There he was.  Navy blue suit and a dark brown tie.   I chuckled, approached my date in my little black dress and said “man, we look like a bruise”.

Throughout our friendship Burri has continued to challenge my idea of reality.  He’s forced me to step out of my comfort zone.  For this I am ever grateful.

Day 9,997.   What should we wear tonight?



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