THE RETURN OF KITTY KASAI
by Erin Brown

I ran cross country in High School. Well, “ran” is a strong word. Usually about six minutes into practice, Rebeca, our team captain, would say something like, “My house is a block away and there is leftover lasagna in the fridge.”

Our team consisted of me and three other very serious runners. There was Rebeca, who still remains a good friend. After college she lived in London for a few years, and now she “runs” around speaking like Madonna. “Oh look I just bought the most amazing British novelty. It’s soo British! Look, mini tablecloths!”

“Um, Bec those have been around for a while, and we call them placemats.”

Christie, another friend with whom I remain close, was also on the team. She has a gorgeous head of long luscious curls. We still laugh when people compliment her on it because it makes us remember of how our fourth teammate, Kitty Kasai, the nicest girl from Japan curiously asked her, “Why yaw hair so curry?”

I still leave voicemails for Christie “Hey why yaw hair so curry? Carr me back ahahahaha!” Because we’re totally mature and I guess racist.

At seventeen, Kitty was a year older than us and already had her license. A bit of a pushover, she would let Rebeca practice driving her silver iRock around the school lot.

One night at the annual “Seniors versus Faculty” volleyball tournament Rebeca took Kitty’s car keys and told her we’d be out front driving around the school parking circle. About half way around the circle Rebeca headed towards Ewing Ave., a very busy road. “Bec where you going?”

“Just taking it around the block.”

We went around the block three towns over, winding up with Craig Simko.

Rocky, as we called Craig behind his back referring to his horrible skin, graduated a few years before us. He was the guy that bought beer for the high school kids. Today he’s a cop and I’m pretty sure still the guy that buys beer for the high school kids.

After a while I told Rebeca that the volleyball tournament was probably over and we should bring back the car. “Oh I’m sure it’s not over yet. Let’s party.” There was no way to really check if the tournament was done, since this was way before cell phones.

A few hours later we returned to empty school parking lot. Well it was empty with the exception of Kitty shivering under the glow of fluorescent lights. Until that moment, I had never seen anyone ruffle Kitty’s feathers. I had never seen her, or anyone else on my cross country team really run. She darted over as we pulled up and in probably the most powerful angry (in her mind) voice, Kitty, the nicest girl from Japan, disappointedly exclaimed, “Rebeca, I no can trust you no more!”

Fast forward, ten plus years later, Summer 2007. I am at Equinox Gym in West Hollywood at the computer station checking my email after a workout.

“Subject: Old Ramapo cross country teammate.”

Ramapo is the name of my high school.

Immediately I think Rebeca must be sending me something. I look at the email address and it’s from “Kitty Kasai", kittykasai@hotmail.com. I do a complete double take and then look around to see if someone else can see what I’m seeing. Nobody seems to notice. I read.

“Hi Erin I don't know if you remember me but we used to run cross country at Ramapo together.”

(REMEMBER YOU? YOU’RE INFAMOUS.)

“I was the short Asian girl with squat legs.”

(WE NEVER TALKED ABOUT KITTY’S PHYISIQUE, BUT AFTER SHE SAID IT I WAS LIKE, YEAH SHE TOTALLY HAD SHORT SQUAT LEGS).

“How are you? How you been? I found your video on uTube - very impressive! Glad to hear you're doing so well. I'm actually a comedian myself and wanted to ask your advice on how to get started in the clubs in LA? How did you get your big break?”

(WELL KITTY, THERE IS THIS SHOW…)

“Did you have to sleep with an agent?

(WELL KITTY, THERE IS THIS WOMAN named…)

If that's the case, I'm fine with it as that's how I got my start in NYC.

(TIMID KITTY TURNED OUT TO BE A WHO-R!)

I'm planning quick trip out to LA for a week and wanted to see whether we could get together for lunch. It would be my treat as I like to try out a few jokes on you to get your reaction. I hope you don't mind but I make a lot of jokes about tall blonds.

(Bartender sees blonde lady masturbating at the bar and asks what the hell she’s doing. She looks at him smiles and says I’m so thisty and your menu says first come, first serve.)

Please don't be offended.”

(THAT’S OKAY, WE’VE BEEN MAKING FUN OF YOU FOR YEARS)

“I also make fun of my own kind - I'm an equal Opportunity comedian.

(Bartender sees Asian lady masturbating at the bar and asks what the hell she’s doing. She looks at him smiles and says I’m so thisty and your menu says first come, first serve.)

I usually like to get this out of the way early on.... but I've recently come out of the closet ... hope that doesn't make you uncomfortable.”

(IN CASE YOU FORGOT I’M STANDING IN SPANDEX AT MY GYM IN WEST HOLLWOOD WHERE BEHIND ME IS A HIP HOP CLASS OF THE CUTEST MOST IN SHAPE GUYS, NONE WHO ARE INTERESTED IN ME. SO, NO, NOT UNCOMFORTABLE.)

“My girlfriend actually looks a lot like you. She’s coming out with me which would be fun.”

(NOW I’m SLIGHTLY UNCOMFORTABLE)

“Well, I'm rambling now. So better go. Looking so forward to our lunch - just let me know what day/time suits you and we can pick a restaurant. Please write back asap so WE can plan our trip. Lots of love and all that good stuff! Kitty x”

By now my jaw is dropped and I cannot believe what I ‘m looking at. I immediately call Rebeca to tell her the crazy news. I get her voicemail, “Rebeca, you need to call me back immediately, like right now. You’re never going to believe this.”

Kitty Kasai, a gay comedian?? I can’t. I can’t even believe I get to meet her and her tall blonde girlfriend!

A few hours Rebeca finally calls me back. “Hey Er, what’s going on?”

“I’ll tell you what is going on – Kitty Kasai found me online! She is coming to LA with her tall blonde girlfriend to tell jokes!”

“What?”

“Yeah, I know it’s freakin crazy. I’m dying; I have to read you her email.”

I start reading it to her but I feel like I don’t have her full attention. Sometimes she gets wrapped up in her own thing. She is the girl that got us all to go to Scotland to see her get married in a castle and was late to the ceremony because “I really needed to get an Indian head massage.”

“Bec are you listening?”

“Um, yeah. Oh sorry I was just teaching the dog to give me paw. I’m in Cape Cod this weekend.”

“Oh cool. So can you believe this letter?” Pause.

“Yeah. Crazy.”

I’m more than disappointed because I thought she would be as flabbergasted as I was. I also thought wow- am I too caught up in high school memories? I say, “I thought you’d be more surprised.” Awkward silence. Then I hear people in the background and giggling.

”Who’s with you?”

”Oh, Christie and company. We came for the weekend.”

”Why are you all laughing?”

“Well...”

”Oh my GOD! Did you write this letter?? I should have known!”

Hook, line and sinker, I had been punked! And now so have all of you!

Then I realize, “Wait, so let me get this straight. You all went to Cape Cod this weekend and had nothing better do than after email me a carefully crafted believable letter from an email account you created for Kitty Kasai?!?”

”Um, yeah. It seemed like a great idea after a few bottles of champers.”

“Rebeca I NO CAN TRUST YOU NO MORE!”