Sitting there at the Format concert last Thursday, staring in disbelief at thick, greenish spit running down the left leg of my jeans, I wondered exactly how it was that I managed to engage "the spitter" in the first verbal fight I've had with a complete stranger since high school.
Sure, everyone expects "snarky" girls in high school who are ready to proclaim "Oh no you didn't!" at every offhand comment made in the cafeteria lunch line. We've seen "Mean Girls."
But confronted with the, seemingly, 15-year-old freshman's outstretched middle finger, I couldn't help but wonder if rude, competitive female behavior is something I'm never going to escape.
It all started as my friends and I sat on some rocks at the perimeter of the concert, waiting for the Format to go on. The majority of the students on this particular evening appeared to be either a) drunk b) chain smokers or c) a delightful combination of the two. This, coupled with the fact that many of the students didn't seem old enough to buy cigarettes, much less the alcohol, seemed particularly amusing to us.
Enter stage right: a girl so intoxicated that she can barely stand up straight, accompanied by a friend who literally can't stand up straight. The friend just happens to be wearing a pair of jeans three sizes too big for her frame, so her bright yellow underwear is hanging out for all the concertgoers to see.
In retrospect, maybe I should have let well enough be. It was a nice, cool night. It was my friend's birthday and we'd just enjoyed a wonderful meal. But a terrible, snarky-girl instinct caused me to remark, "Does she know that her butt is hanging out of her jeans, or should I go tell her?"
A 1996 study on female aggression in young girls conducted by Dr. Nikki Crick of the University of Minnesota found that little girls display anger toward each other in a different way than the physical pushing matches of little boys. Girls prefer to use relational aggression, or words or actions specifically meant to undermine their peer's self-confidence or position in her social group.
Memories of the excruciatingly painful, backstabbing days of "we don't want you to sit at our table in the cafeteria anymore because you're not cool" from the third grade still haunt me today. But maybe this behavior doesn't exist only in little girls.
I managed to make my comment just loud enough for the underwear girl's friend to hear. She proceeded to come over, get all up in my grill (yeah, I just said grill) and ask me if I was making fun of her.
I told her no, I was making fun of her friend.
About 10 minutes later, there was spit running down my jeans and three angry girls with a combined weight of 250 pounds marching away from me.
After calling my friend a closeted homosexual (he's so out, honey) she asked me if the reason I make fun of other people is because I'm fat and ugly. (Usually it's because they're stupid and drunk, but yeah, maybe.) I still ended up with the upper hand because I refused to engage in a physical fight with the girl.
But then again, maybe I should have taken a lesson from the little boys of the playground. Would it have been better to push her down, watch her cry and then help her back up and go play kickball? Maybe we could have settled our difference and together, gone over to yellow underwear girl and helped her get back to Manzy.
I'm not sure. I think I'll go consult "Mean Girls."
Stephanie Berger is a journalism junior. Call her names at stephanie.m.berger@asu.edu.
