The Quitter Origin

Bossy’s memory of where it all began…

To fully understand why Quitter is one of my top fav people, you first need an insight into her name.

2001 (Fact check this, Quitter…I suck at years) – Cut to 4, 20-year-olds cross countrying-it in a rented Grand Am.  Me, the anal-control freak believed every minute of our trip should be planned, booked, pre-paid and disinfected.  Quitter – She threw our map out Day 1 and told us the best hotels are the ones found on the road.  She was half true.

Day 1 of said road trip, we were careening into nowhere New Brunswick at around 10pm – approximately the 8th hour on the road.  It was downpouring.  Street lights were too fancy for this town of population 8.5 people.  Roads had only one direction: S-ing.  Quitter, our current driver, stated she thought it was in our best interest to pull-over at the first motel we saw.

We called her a quitter.  And it stuck.

This was approximately 2 years into our friendship.  Even at the time of this trip, I can’t say I would have called Quitter a friend.  I knew I liked her and I knew she made me laugh hard, but I couldn’t say I knew much about her and titling her “friend” felt premature.

Actually, when I first met Quitter, I didn’t like her.

It wasn’t her fault.

We were in second year college and I was skyrocketing.  I had successfully shaken off the confines of a reputation I hated from high school.  I had also successfully shaken off the loneliness of a single year at university where I met 1 person in an entire year.

College was my jam.  I had met people who I had really liked.  Who were interesting and smart, creative and carefree.  One friend in particular, who we lovingly called Porkchop, became my favorite college friend.  She was (and is) nuts, zeitgeisty, genuinely unique and funny as all shit.  And she seemed to like me.  We clicked fast and our first year was memory filled.

By second year, our class expanded to include students from two other classes which meant social circles were expanding also.

I can remember clear as day the afternoon when Porkchop introduced me to Quitter.  Porkchop went on about how funny Quitter is, how we should all hang out.  And like a pre-teen who’s best friend gets to sit by the hot boy in math while you sit beside Lewis, I was beyond jealous.  And in that moment, I couldn’t tell you why but now, near two decades later, I can wager a guess.

I like my friendships intimate.  Sounds SOOO kinky (you’re welcome random reader who stumbled on this site thinking it was a new form of porn) but really what I mean is, if given the chance, I would always prefer catching up with one-person and giving full attention than jumping from conversation, person-to-person, in a large group.  That’s not to say I don’t like meeting lots of people (hence the university disappointment) – I just don’t want to hang out with them together.

And let’s be honest – I also just didn’t want to share my new friend.

Thankfully my opinion would change of Quitter over the remaining school year (the Pants-Free moment playing a part) and a lot of little pieces would turn into the puzzle of our friendship.  It is still likely missing 1 million pieces but those are life experiences waiting to be lived and added to the picture.  And thankfully, I know Quitter is going to see this one out.



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