Make Me a Sandwich!

It’s two in the morning on December 9th, 2011. Everyone in the house is asleep except for my brother’s friend. He keeps waking up my brother every 30 minutes with another command for him as if he’s the housemaid. I’m feeling anxious and unable to sleep until his friend leaves around 2:30 AM.

I often don’t have to travel very far to meet an unusual person or situation. I’ve experienced everything from middle-aged musicians busting out in aria while I scanned their groceries to overly-cocky classmates telling me I am “the perfect height to suck [their]…” without warning. (To my friend Lauren: if you’re reading this, you know who I’m talking about and can attest). Of all the strange people I’ve met, there is one in particular always takes the cake.

Vincent is a classmate I go to school with for grades 6th through 8th. He is about 5’5″, only a couple inches taller than me, and is as rotund as he is tall. He wears eyeglasses that make him look bug-eyed, a pair of black combat boots he proudly claims can “smash in a face with no effort” and is, in the poetic words of Weird Al Yankovic, “whiter than sour cream.”

For two months straight in 7th grade, he asks me every day to be his Valentine. Every day I tell him no, that I’m not interested. Two days before Valentine’s Day, he forgets about me and starts to obsess over one of my friends. I do feel bad for her, but I’m relieved he is no longer on my case. I forget about Vincent until the next school year.

It’s Friday evening on December 9th, 2011, and my brother is having a friend over to stay the night. I decide to go with my mom and brother to pick up his friend, any excuse to leave the house for a couple of minutes. We show up at his friend’s house to pick this mysterious fella up. When I see who it is, all the blood drains from my face in fear and anxiety. “How can my brother befriend him? How did this happen?” I ask myself as I fidget with my hands in the back passenger seat.

Vincent sandwiches himself between me and my brother, taking up the middle seat in the back. Without hesitation, Vincent starts playing Breaking Benjamin from his Blackberry phone on full blast. He has no regard of anyone else in the car. My mom tells him, “Nice to meet you.” After a second’s pause, he says, “Oh yeah, you too.” The entire car ride home, I lean my head against the window with my eyes closed. Hoping this is a nightmare and not reality.

We return to the house and I distract myself with my algebra homework on the family computer. I find any excuse to not be around my brother and his friend. All is going well for the first hour. Vincent tries to grab my attention by asking for my opinion on political issues and music genres. I tune him out and hyper-focus on my studies. I’m in a state of flow completing all my assignments. Then, what seemed out of nowhere, a hand snatches the computer mouse I am using.

I look behind me to see Vincent is standing super close to me on my left, I am still sitting in the office chair. He starts opening up random YouTube links, telling me about all his favorite music. I shrink in the chair, leaning out of the right side and dissociating. I am in slight shock over his lack of manners and over the sudden invasion of space. For the next 15 minutes, he continues having full control of the family computer. My brother, now annoyed Vincent is paying a lot of attention to me, tries to get him to play a videogame in the living room.

I am relieved when my brother finally convinces Vincent to play videogames. I retreat to my room to calm down from the sensory overload I am experiencing. Despite my efforts to de-escalate, my nerves are still on edge. I worry about the possibility of Vincent bursting in at any moment and invading my space. All throughout the night, the only sound I can hear is Vincent’s congested-sounding voice echoing off the tile flooring. I try my best to fall asleep when I begin to overhear their conversation.

I overhear Vincent tell my brother, “Hey! Wake up! Go make me a ham and cheese sandwich.” My brother tiringly tells him he will not make a sandwich. It is now 1:00 AM and the house is quiet for the first time since Vincent’s arrival. I begin to drift off when I hear him in the living room ask my brother, “Can I have a present from under your tree?” My brother tells him, no, but Vincent insists. “Come on! It’s almost Christmas, give me a present from under your tree. ” My brother says no again, this time more assertively. My brother falls asleep and the house is quiet once again.

Everyone wakes up again around 2:15 AM to the sound of a loud car engine rumbling outside in the cul-de-sac. My mother emerges from her room to see what’s going on. Vincent claims that he is leaving and his mother is waiting outside to pick him up. I return to my bed and finally fall asleep, happy to know he is going back to his home. He leaves without a sandwich and without any of the family’s Christmas presents.

After that strange night, I haven’t had any interaction with Vincent. My brother did not invite him over to the house ever again. His actions back then did instill a weariness in me towards people in my age group that still lingers a bit to this day. Vincent, if you’re reading this post, I hope you’re doing well.