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world started fake lezzing out at the VMAs. It simply was not done. What would happen next? Karen and Sharon went into protective adult mode and pulled the two wasted girls apart and took them upstairs to a more private location.

    Just then Brendan’s mom—who was totally unaware of the proceedings—started screaming and throwing everyone’s coats down the stairs, which shall henceforth be known as An Irish Goodnight.

    Brendan’s mom may have perfected my “party shutdown” move, but it didn’t stop me from working it at the amateur level. I followed the four women upstairs, ducking the flying parkas, because it was almost two A.M.: my special expanded New Year’s Eve curfew. Karen was my ride and we needed to get a move on. Alexis and jock girl were so drunk they could barely function. Karen and Sharon tried to convince them it was time to call it a night. They would give them a ride home. “Noooo, I loooooove herrrr,” jock girl sobbed as Karen helped her get her coat on. I said I’d be waiting in the car and they needed to hurry up .

    Meanwhile, Brendan stormed out of the house and drove away, furious—probably because he had “lost the room” when two girls started going to town on each other.

    After I’d been waiting in the car twenty minutes and missed my curfew, I couldn’t control my temper anymore. “Get the dykes in the car!” I screamed down Childs Avenue, banging my shoe on Karen’s dashboard and leaving a slight crack. My husband could tell you that I still get this wound up when I’m trying to leave the house on a Saturday morning and nobody in my family has their shoes on.
    It’s not a great quality.

    (And just in case you were wondering, yes—when he returned later that night, Brendan tried to run Patty and his mother over with the car. I believe it earned him a Regional Theater Tony nomination.)
    The Second Summer

    My second year at Summer Showtime, I was promoted to be one of the Children’s Theater directors. I directed shows with a cast of sixty twelve-year-olds and, I’ll toot my own horn, I made some interesting directing choices. Such as pushing the Little Mermaid around on a rolling office chair papier-mâchéd to look like a large shell. Her hair only got caught in the wheels twice.

    I knew everyone. I was fully immersed. “Immersed,” Brendan would say. “You’re so smart. Why don’t I know more people who use words like ‘immersed’?” And then he’d disappear for two days. He may have been a drunk.

    Sharon’s brother Sean was our “visiting director” for the Mainstage musical. Everyone referred to him as Equity Actor Sean Kenny. He was a member of the stage actors union! He was living the dream in a basement-level studio apartment in Hell’s Kitchen with a rat problem. We were all in awe.

    Sean was and is a skilled and confident director. I was excited to be his assistant director on a murder mystery musical called Something’s Afoot.

    My first job as assistant director was to make sure he didn’t cast the talented blond dancer who had so easily stolen my boyfriend the summer before. I accomplished this with the persistent and skilled manipulation of a grade A bitch. I made articulate arguments as to why the other blond girl would be better. The Dancer Girl was “too overused.” It would be more exciting to “use someone unexpected,”
    and the other girl’s “look” was “more British.” A fat load of nonsense, but it worked. Dancer Girl was relegated to playing the title role in a Children’s Theater show called Guess Again. Yes, her character and the show were both called Guess Again. A harsh punishment.

    Obviously, as an adult I realize this girl-on-girl sabotage is the third worst kind of female behavior, right behind saying “like” all the time and leaving your baby in a dumpster. I’m proud to say I would never sabotage a fellow female like that now. Not even if Christina Applegate and I were both up for the same part as Vince