Send her a link to a story about her and misspell her name. I hounded Marilyn into giving me the only job I’ve ever liked in my life so she deserves an internet paean written to her. Don’t even think about charging me with stalking, Marilyn. So much paperwork has already been filed you’d be roundly ignored.
Marilyn was pretty amazing. She was tall, pretty, an athlete, got along with everyone, and was a great deal of fun. I don’t have a picture of her so I put one up of Jenny Finch cuz she’s tall and pretty and athletic. I’m not really sure how fun she is.
Marilyn was like most girls that I’ve had crushes on in that she was outwardly very nice and cheerful and yet had the ability to turn hilariously biting at any second in the proper company. You’ll notice that I’m usually that company. If I have nothing else going for me at least I bring out all the entertaining bitterness and resentment in people.
Had I any chance whatsoever I would have been totally in love with Marilyn even though she had me by at least four inches and three years, and believe me I was so scrawny when I was a freshman in college I nearly blew away in the wind.
Here’s the proof of Marilyn’s eternal wonderfulness and cool. I hustled harder to get my college job than I did in the entire 3 year period that I actually worked at that job. Hell, I hustled harder to get that job than I have in my entire work career.
And yes, it’s true, when I ran the place in the summer of 1986, I would often turn on the radio (I was supposed to be playing cassettes), leave the newspapers on the counter (I was supposed to be getting ID’s), and go to sleep on one of the Browsing Library’s huge futons (which was wrong in at least seven different ways).
Anyway, there are two possibilities:
1. Marilyn knew I was full of shit from the get go
2. Marilyn found out that I was full of shit after about a week
Either way she was cool enough to be amused – and I haven’t met nearly enough of those people.
