My name is Monique. Many years ago, in my senior year in high school, I had a vicious catfight against a new neighbor of mine, a short girl named Andrea who had just moved into town. Although she was also a high school senior, and although we were neighbors, we didn't go to the same school. She went to the town's public school, while I went to the nearby Catholic School, Saint Margaret Mary.
She was short, and so was I. That was the reason we became rivals. Well, the indirect reason. The direct reason was the boy who we were dating rivals for: a short public school junior named David, who was also the same height as Andrea and me--five feet even .... on our tippy-toes.
Now, being girls, at least Andrea and didn't merit special attention at being 5'0". I mean, that's short for a girl. But at least it's in a normal range. Only 2 to 4 inches shorter than the bottom quartile of our female classmates. But David? A 5'0" high schooler? Whose growth spurt was obviously over? That stood out.
It gave him a Napoleon complex. And, since it was 1975, he refused to dance with, kiss, or date any girl taller than him.
Which until Andrea's arrival senior year, only left him one option. Me. We would flirt. Then date. Then I'd get tired of his Napoleon complex crap, and we'd break up. Then we'd repeat the cycle all over again. We had at least 4 serious breakups.
Until Andrea came along. With her long beautiful straight black, an exact contrast to my shoulder length curly blonde hair. And she was in the same school as him, so she saw him more during the school week than I did.
She waited until David and I went thru one of our inevitable breakups. Then she pounced. The grapevine found out that Andrea and David were kissing in the hallways at the public school.
I knew I needed to act fast. Nor because I was worried about them falling in love--David's overcompesating for his height would test Andrea's patience soon enough.
I needed to act because I was losing face in my neighborhood.
Because 1975 was an unenlightened era when it came to physical bullying. There was no "telling the principal", .... or even your parents ....., if a taller girl was name-calling you or pulling your hair or intimidating you in the restroom or gossiping about you. You were on your own. You needed to stand up for yourself.
And if you were a short senior, there was no better way for a tall junior girl, ....or, a tall sophomore .... to make a name for herself than to take a shot at you, trip you, throw a spit ball, whatever..... and get you to retaliate. Especially if she was confident with her hands (and knees and claws), and thought she could goad you into a Saturday night catfight.
If you were the short girl, like me, you need to prevent the initial provocation from even entering the instigators mind.
And when David and Andrea began kissing, I was doubly vulnerable.
<> Everyone could tell I was teary-eyed from a recent breakup.
<> Everyone could tell my ex's new girl was easily accessible--3 houses kitty corner--and I was doing nothing about it.
So I began waiting for my moment to confront my rival.
And so did the other high school aged girls and boys on the cul de sac.
And we all knew the time of the "girl talk" ... the chat between Andrea and me .... would probably happen.
Between 2pm, when school got out, and 5pm, and the neighborhood dad's got home from work.
So the neighborhood porches were getting quite a bit of use, as the New England winter weather receded and spring seeped into the air.
Andrea would hang out on her porch. I would hang out on mine. And we'd wait for a spark. A reason to approach the other.
Our friends tried to instigate something. They's tell us they heard the other calling us a 'bitch'. But that was obvious. Kissing a boy do soon after a breakup still had a taboo in 1975 that it seems to have lost.
We'd fan out away from our porches, than our yards, daring each other to get close. It was partly my fault it was taking so long. I had never been afraid to fight another girl before. Not that I had lost many catfights, but at least when you're short and lose to a bigger girl, you can blame the loss on your size.
And a draw was a de facto win.
Which is what most 1975 catfights were. Close your eyes, go all out, and pummel each other until you're mutually exhausted. And the crowd gets their fill of what they came to see.
But if I lost to Andrea, that eould be mortifying.
Because she was short, too.
And there would be no draw. We would need to fight until there was a winner.
No longer how long it took.
So, with the stakes so high, I tried to gather as much competitor intelligence as I could.
I asked my friends who attended Andrea's school what scuttlebutt was about her fight prowess.
> Did she fight at her old address.
> Hell ya,,Monique!! She had to!! It was in Dorchester!
> I heard she was in a gang.
> I heard she got suspended 5 weeks.
> I saw at scar on her back one day.
Great. Just great. To be continued....
