Barbie Girl in an Online Fantasy World

 (Warning: contains liberal amounts of foul language.)

I had this friend; her name is Chrissie.  She lives in New Zealand. We are close in age (she is older).  We'd talk on the phone for hours and laugh our heads off at seemingly silly things.  Her laugh was infectious really.  We exchanged gifts and sent packages to each other.  She collected all things frogs.  I sent her a homemade, fleece blanket with frogs on it that an autistic girl helped me make.  Chrissie was thrilled. We were friends for years, until Chrissie changed.  Or maybe she was always that way, and I just never saw it. Was I was blind to her true colors?

Years ago my friend and I tried out this new chat venue where people could interact with others using animated avatars.  One could chat as a guest and earn promo credits to buy clothes, houses, scenes, accessories, etc. all for their avatar.  Minors have flocked to this site in droves. The anonymity gave them power. Or one could spend their hard earned money and buy regular credits, their chat name, and an Access Pass that allowed 'adults' the choice to take chat to that mature level of sex, sex, and more sex.  Again an obvious appeal for minors to flirt with sexual content online with other minors and those of legal age. Who really knew?  Supposedly the site had an age verification that set parameters, but those were always thwarted with little or no effort.

There were fun parts to this chat world.  I liked the forums where arguments and insults were slung daily while people debated and asserted their online rights.  But I mainly liked the creativity of ideas that allowed people the driver's seat in being artistic .  I partook of contests (and won some) where developers would have a theme and participants could use their imaginations to their heart's content. To me, that was the fun side of this crazy place.

The Dark Side reared its ugly head through the actions and addictions of my friend (and others, but more on that later).  She became hooked rather quickly to the idea of animated Barbie sex.  It didn't matter that she was a married woman to a great guy.  She wanted and needed her online boyfriends.  She went through them like water; still waters run very, very deep.  She even called me up crying when one cyber fuck crushed her tender feelings.  I just did not understand.  I didn't realize the depth of her bizarre behavior.  I told her to block him and ignore him.  She sobbed and was devastated.  I was clueless - at first - to her lies.

Chrissie apparently was a huge phone sex slut.  I suppose that was her prerogative, but I seriously doubted her husband knew of it all. Or maybe he did, and it was some sick, sexual fetish they participated in together, but again I highly doubted it.

It all came to a head when Chrissie informed me that her dad had fallen off a ladder and was in the hospital.  She was keeping vigil over her ailing father like any good daughter would - or so she claimed.  During one of her supposed hospital vigils, I found out that Chrissie was hosting a cyber sex party.  She had forgotten about time dates and stamps that logged her online activities in Barbie-land.  Oops.

I confronted her, of course, but instead of any remotely mature response she ran.  She bolted for that friend door and slammed it closed.  No apology. No explanation. Nothing.  Just a loud click as the door sealed shut.

I never tried to contact her after that. Not once.  That incident snowballed into other lies and half-truths coming to light, and I didn't like what I found out.  I heard about her parties and shit through other acquaintances.   She was on a spiral to somewhere fast.  She was loving it. Or at least I thought she was, because it was what she wanted. She made her bed, and she loved assuming the starfish position in it for anyone with a penis.

I was contacted by strangers who wanted clarification about Chrissie. They somehow connected me to her, and they could not figure out who or what she really was. I couldn't help them, not really.  I felt duped myself. I did wonder, at times, how it would all end.  Her lies got more and more outlandish.  I jokingly discussed with a mutual friend how one day Chrissie was going to have to kill off her current persona and create another one because she was in way over her head.  How prophetic my words became in the next chapter of the Chrissie Saga.

One of the new people who contacted me said that Chrissie allegedly had breast cancer.  She had a huge following in her chat world. Poor Chrissie.  Yet never at any time was she absent from chat for the chemotherapy that she claimed to be going through; consequently, she was never too sick to party.  She had a new current flavor of the month, and they were in cyber love.  He was loyal. He was true. He was an idiot.

Word caught up to me that Chrissie had died. (Insert crocodile tears)  She died while on the phone with her chat fuck.  I know, how tender.  Her last remaining minutes of precious life were not with her husband, parents, brothers, or close friends.  They were garnering up enough strength to whisper words of devotion to her cheap lover.  I mean the real movie of the week would have him fly to New Zealand sweating in a cheap motel to show support for his beloved (thanks Jay).  Sick enough for you yet? 

Now do I believe Chrissie has passed on?  No. We used to sit and have discussions and laugh at fake chat deaths.  I believe she is no exception. She was sucked into her void of sex, lies, and chat hate.  BUT JUST IN CASE - RIP you big, fat, slutty, liar.

Faux Friend

Down the road, around the bend, across the sea 

I had a friend

A friend I could tell my secrets to

Who wouldn't tell them - like some do

A friend who was not just a friend in need

But a friend in deed

I had her back and she had mine

Reciprocity was our mutual sign

Ours was a sharing of hearts

Never to break or part

A bond that stretched wide and far

Acceptance set the bar

And now my friend has gone away

What I would give if I could say

Down the road, around the bend, across the sea

I had a - fuck it, she never was one anyway