6. The Battery and the Law

This anecdote is dated February 5, 2000.

It was around 2 a.m. and the pub had just closed. I was walking back to James Hall with my best friend, Matt Becker, when we saw a mysterious glow coming from the alley that runs behind High Street. Further investigation revealed that it was originating from an abandoned parking garage. Throwing back the corrugated steel door, we were blinded momentarily by a flood of white light. Matt, with his inherently religious reflexes, immediately assumed we'd died and were in the presence of his Lord and savior, Jesus Christ. Boy was he wrong. It was just Jamie Bourdon charging his battery.

Oh, have I not mentioned that Jamie is a robot and, as follows, needs a great deal of battery charging (he's not an eco-friendly solar model, unfortunately, as he was assembled back in the '80's) and software upgrades? Sometimes, he'll start short-circuiting, especially if they show J-Lo shaking her ass on MTV.

Once, Jamie lost his charger. After his battery had run down, we propped him up in the corner and stacked crushed beer cans on his head. He didn't move or say anything for two weeks. That was the best time in my life.

Unfortunately, our ethical friend Matt Schiltz (he's going to be a lawyer, folks, so you know he was born to walk the moral high-road) said that it wouldn't be right to leave Jamie like that forever. I'm pretty sure that Matt hates Jamie as much as I do. He's just a really good person.

(Sidenote to Jamie Bourdon: Would you quit making your libelous claims that this blog is just a front behind which to hide my "secret affections" for you? Whole world (including Kei) knows I hate you, boy. I am a JOURNALIST and it is my mission to spread the truth. I'm also studying all about 1st Amendment Law, so don't think I'm not aware of my rights. Too bad you're just a robot, and therefore not protected by the Constitution.)

Sidenote to Jamie Bourdon,

Dear Jamie,

I'll have you know that lots of people read my blog. I wrote the URL on my Columbia business cards. Yes, Jamie, I have business cards. This is because I am a professional-in-training and someday I'll be either 1) rich or 2) making the world a better place. What do you do, Jamie? Play online poker? That's noble, sir. Real, real noble.

I hate you.

Yours,
Jenni

5. An Unhelpful Beast

This anecdote is dated September 24, 2006.

Today, the bulb in my overhead light blew. I asked Jamie to help me change it, but he said "no." I guess he was too busy playing Kingdom Hearts. (You know, he reads RPG walkthroughs on the internet because he's too dumb to figure out the puzzles himself.)

So, I'm writing this in total darkness. Thanks a lot, Jamie.

4. Another Party

This anecdote is dated November 15, 2001.

I was at a Harris party waiting in the beer line with Laura Matter when I saw Jamie Bourdon wearing an oversized salmon colored sweatshirt and listening to a CD player.

"What are you listening to, loser?" I asked politely.

He didn't respond.

"HEY. WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU?" I repeated.

He removed his headphones and scowled at me. I think he was listening to trance music.

Jamie frequently made and brought his own soundtracks to Harris parties. Sometimes, he would lock himself in a stall in the men's room and listen to Bright Eyes and wonder why life was worth living.

Another time, he dumped out a whole bowl of potato chips into his backpack. He then retreated to the middle of Mac field where he ate them so fast he got violently ill and spent the rest of the weekend nursing his trans fat hangover with Beat poetry and internet pornography.

That was a rough weekend.

3. Movie Night

This anecdote is dated November 13, 2002.

Once, against my better judgment, I rented a movie with Jamie Bourdon. He fell asleep as soon as the previews were over and snored loudly the entire time. He was also drooling. I might point out that Jamie had chosen the movie and had insisted repeatedly that we go see it when it was in the theater.

I said "no," because I am not rich.

The title was, "The Wedding Planner."

This was back when Jamie was obsessed with Jennifer Lopez and had been writing her one or two fan letters daily. Eventually, he got cheap and lazy and switched to fan emails. After she got that pink rock from Ben Affleck, Jamie locked himself in his room and cried for days. He wouldn't speak to us or eat or shower. We had to coax him out by promising him that we'd take him to Iowa City to buy Magic: The Gathering cards.

I never did that. I guess that makes me kind of a bad person, too.

2. The Blood Drive

This anecdote is dated September 7, 2000.

Back before I knew Jamie Bourdon, I saw him in Quad drinking red liquid out of a Dasani water bottle. Now, everyone knows that water isn't red. And, while defenders of Jamie Bourdon (those poor, delusional fools) may claim that he was drinking cranberry juice or liquid strawberry Jell-O or Clamato, I KNOW that he was drinking blood.

This is because Jamie used to be a vampire-in-training. But he gave up when he realized that vampires aren't allowed to "do chicks."

1. The Party

This anecdote is dated June 6, 2003:

On this uncharacteristically cold and rainy June morning, just one month after we had graduated from Grinnell College, I witnessed Jamie Bourdon doing all of the following: drinking expired milk straight from the carton, deliberately spilling red nail polish on the carpet, trying on a pair of beige corduroys that he had shoplifted from the Juniors department of Dillards, cheating a Mario Tennis, using a penknife to scratch the word "SATAN" into the back of his room mate's Promise Ring CD, and making prank calls to his former acadmic advisor. He also procured a pair of safety scissors with the intention of removing page 43 from my copy of Lyotard's "The Postmodern Condition," but was distracted by the sound of the ice cream truck passing by the window.

That night, we decided to have a party.

I spent hours cutting photos of Mandy Moore out of my vast personal library of teen magazines and taping them to the walls of my friend's apartment. Then, I went to Hy-Vee to buy beer. When I came home, Jamie had drawn lopsided mustaches on all of Ms. Moore's pictures. He had also used a flourescent yellow highlighter pen to artificially age the appearance of her smile. (By that I mean he yellowed her teeth.)

The ambience was completely ruined.

It was, however, too late to call off the party, the invitations having been sent and the beer having been purchased, etc. etc. I made Jamie promise that he would refrain from any further mischief for the duration of the night. And, for the most part, he remained true to his word, although I did see him spitting into someone's glass around midnight.