I was telling someone this story when I thought to myself, "Why have I not put this on my blog yet?" because the story is just ridiculous. So ridiculous that it is difficult to believe that it could be true but just ridiculous enough to be true so, here it is. It is also a true story.
My freshman year in college...well, haha...when I was a true freshman many many years ago there was a girl in my dorm who decided, somewhere in the recesses of her mind that it was a good idea to bring her Barbies to college. Some of you might be thinking what I thought way back then and that was "What the hell is wrong with you exactly?" Don't get me wrong. I had Barbies when I was a little girl. Granted, I chopped most of their hair off and they all died tragic deaths, usually but that was when I was six. At eighteen, I had pretty much gotten out of the Barbie doll phase. I am aware, however that some people like to collect things and that some of those vintage Barbies are worth quite a bit of money. I get that. I collect things. I have boxes of comic books and baseball cards sitting in a closet. But see, when people see those they usually say "Awesome! Comic books!" It's a little different with Barbies and even if it weren't...you don't bring your dolls to college with you. You just don't. Maybe a stuffed animal or two or hell, even three but an army of Barbies and Kens...no.
So, this girl...we'll call her Deanna because...well, that was her name. She was very possessive of these Barbie dolls. She wouldn't let us play with them or even touch them because they were collectables. And honestly, we took great joy as 18 year old bullies in moving one of the Barbies slightly to the right or left of where they had been sitting and no lie...she would notice. I'm not sure who hatched the brilliant plot, but I'm thinking it was me. I bought a disposable camera from the drug store and her roommate and I set to work on our deviant scheme.
The plan was simple. Deanna was at the library studying for exams. Why weren't we studying for exams? What, are you kidding me? Anyways, while she was gone we would take Barbie and Ken, undress them, put them in various compromising positions and take pictures. Then we would put all their clothes back on and return them to their original places. Deanna would be none the wiser. Until she received the photos anonymously in her Berry mailbox. Brilliant, right? Well, unfortunately our plan was ruined when Deanna came back to her room to get her calculator and caught us, blew a gasket and that ended the fun.
Five years later I'm rummaging through some old stuff and I say, "Hey, an old roll of film. I wonder what's on it..." Without hesitating or even considering that it might not be wise, I took off to Wal-mart to have the pictures developed, my roommate in tow. I notice right away that the pictures are from my freshman dorm because there's so-and-so and I'm enjoying my stroll down memory lane.
You know how you can be having such a wonderful time and then it can turn into such complete horror that you can't recall why you were having a wonderful time just moments before? When I flipped to the next photo...it was kinda like that. For me, anyways. My roommate, however busts out laughing and says: "What. Is that?!" See, in my hand was a photo of Barbie and Ken, mid-coitus on Deanna's desk. It was a pretty good shot for a disposable camera. I felt compelled to tell the entire story while standing there in earshot of the photo technician lest he think I'm a complete social deviant and all around weirdo. I do not undress Barbies for fun or profit. It was a joke. A harmless prank!
Ah. Karma. It really does work.