Watermelon Girls
The internet is going berserk over the fact that the copper who arrested Justin Timberlake for drunk driving in the Hamptons was so young that he didn’t recognize him.
Finally, someone I can relate to.
When I was in 9th grade in the year 2000, two popular, moustacheless White girls who smelled like watermelon Lip Smackers and not onion tadka were engaging in small talk with me in art class.
We had absolutely nothing in common, but when you’re a teenager sharing a table all semester it’s like moving in together, so you develop relationships.
I only remember two conversations with the Watermelon Girls. Once they were going back and forth about the short one’s impending belly button piercing. The dilemma was that summer was approaching and family trips were planned.
How would Jennifer be able to conceal her piercing from her dad!? He notices everything! In fact, he noticed she had an ingrown big toenail from halfway across the living room and took her to the podiatrist to have it excavated while she “held on to him and cried like a baby.”
She threw her foot up on the table and showed us her still perfect glossy red half-toenail. I didn’t proceed to show them one of my big toenails with deep ridges and a brown stripe that made it look like a dinosaur tooth found at an archaeological dig.
The tall girl said, “Just wear a one piece.” To which the little one responded, “No way my dad would believe that. ‘Really Jen, you in a one piece.’” They both just closed mouth stared at me when I said, “Just don’t get the piercing then.” I wasn’t consulted for a while after that which meant I could stipple in peace.
Weeks later, another encounter. This time the tall one was like, “He is so cute,” and then the other one was like, “I know, I’m sOoOoo in love with him.” I asked who they were talking about and the little one said, “Justin Timberlake,” to which I said, “Oh, is he in this class?” and started looking around.
They just stared at me, and I couldn't tell if they wanted to kill me or themselves. Or both.
The Watermelon Girls were nice, but I doubt they ever thought of me again. As someone who spent most of those years of my life watching as opposed to participating, I remember them with fondness as benign and forgiving members of the electoral college of popularity.
But yeah, I had no idea who Justin Timberlake was either.
Until college when a friend of mine shared with me the following cover video of Senorita made by a few guys who lived in our dorms. This was the first YouTube video I ever watched and I’m pleased to see this relic still on the internet.
I went on to enjoy his music and it continued to punctuate my life. After college when I was hired for a fancy food and beverage management training job out in Vegas, I met another girl my age also heartbroken over a guy back home and we bonded over the song, What Goes Around Comes Around.
Crying in buses and in the apartment we eventually shared, we both would lay on the carpet in my room in front of the TV and wish that tragedy would befall our exes. None of that “I want the best for him” bullshit. We wanted them to die like dogs.
I knew I wasn’t really young anymore when Justin Timberlake stopped being cool.
The Watermelon Girls probably have eight kids apiece now. Maybe they go on family vacations together and stay at hotels near theme parks, sharing concerns with one another in hot tubs about piercings their daughters might get, wayward celebrities they’re obsessed with, and boyfriends with DUIs.
Wherever they are, I hope they are well.
