Published in On Our Selection News October 17, 2013

I love a good “first meeting” story.

A very good friend of mine had a 21st over the weekend, which means a couple of things – free terrible tasting wine (as someone who’s first introduction to white wine was sourced from a silver sack that came out of a box, all white wines taste terrible in comparison…), bored younger cousins being forced to carry around platters of fried food to guests and embarrassing stories coming out in speeches.

As I had a fair bit of embarrassing ammunition to shoot out of the truth gun, I nominated myself to speak. The tale of our first meeting was a good one. I won’t go into the details, but it involved a sweet 16th, an unusual projectile and some incredibly bogan antics on both of our parts. Now we can all look back and laugh at how feral we were, but as someone now officially classed as an adult, I fear that similar humiliating first meetings won’t result in lifelong friendship – they will merely make you an hilarious anecodote at dinner parties.

The filthy days of youth are gone and now all that’s left are good impressions and sensible conversation. Which is sad, because thinking back to all the times I first met my nearest and dearest, they were all pretty damn unsightly or creepy.

On several occasions, I’ve photographed friends before I became friends with them. Yes really. I was at an Australia Day event demonstrating the awesome water-proofness of my new camera by dunking it in jugs of beer and taking submerged photos, which then resulted in me forcibly taking selfies with impressed patrons. A month or so later, a girl I’d taken photos of was moving into the room around the corner from mine, and we were instant friends. I’ve also got a snap of another friend playing with string in the background of a I’d picture taken at a concert. Another friend and I first bonded over a big manky scar on his neck, and due to a questionable initiation process, I’ve met countless friends by going up to them to mock their horrendously choppy shaved heads.

These are the friendships that have perhaps been the most rewarding, and while I wouldn’t put it down to just an hilarious and filthy meeting, the first meeting story definitely helps. Perhaps it’s because embarrassing situations break the ice for you. Because we all know that when you’re dressed up as Jesus and every other girl is wearing a cute fairy costume (Year 9 Dannielle didn’t get the memo), you’re going to be less closed off when someone extends an arm of friendship.

Now, as a judgemental young adult, it would take someone with a heckload more personality traits than a dank neck scar to strike me as a potential buddy. But I do hope my newfound notion of maturity doesn’t deter me from forming the strong bonds of creepily founded friendship. I hope that my wisdom is less of a friend-blocking fence, and more a friend selection filter that helps me sieve out the weirdos with hearts of gold from the plain weird. And taking into account my preference for wearing “odd” costumes, I sure hope my fellow judgemental youth are much the same.