THE BEST OF FRIENDS LIKE TO PLAY NAUGHTYBy MANDY STADTMILLER
NEW YORK POST
November 4, 2007 -- “MACKENZIE and I have done some serious talking," I e-mail Super Preppy and copy her two days before Halloween. “She is going to buy a sexy nurse outfit like mine. We think we'll go very well together. One blonde. One brunette."
Before I hit send, I add:
“Please note. DON'T GET ANY IDEAS. THIS IS FOR THE SAKE OF ART ONLY!"
I like to think Mackenzie and I have a friendship that is an art form unto itself. Here's why:
1. She will beat you up.
“I want you to know," she writes me after buying her costume. “I just got into a fight with a small Asian girl over the last size small Sexy Nurse costume at Ricky's. I won. It was a proud moment for me both professionally (as a nurse) and personally."
2. She gets that life is as fun as you make it.
“I'm going to perform naughty open-heart surgery," I tell her on the cab ride over to the bar on Halloween night.
“Oh yeah?" she challenges. “I'm going to do a naughty craniotomy."
“Oh yeah?" I say. “I'm going to find the naughty cure for cancer."
“Oh yeah?" she says. “I'm going to do naughty dialysis."
“Fine," I surrender. “You're the better naughty nurse."
3. She is there for me.
“Do I look OK?" I ask her for the millionth time.
“Mandy," she says, practically shaking me. “You need to stop that. You look awesome."
“Thanks," I say.
“Besides," she says, “we're here to practice medicine."
4. She knows how to say just the right thing.
“Last night I told Super Preppy that I might duck into a hospital," I tell Mackenzie. “I said I was going to burst in and say, ‘Take me to the Erectile Dysfunction Ward! I've got serious work to do!'"
“You are so dedicated," she says solemnly, “to our noble profession."
5. She knows the fun doesn't have to end. Ever.
The highlight of our morning after Halloween is a narcissistic fest of the 8,000 pictures we took on my digital camera. The pics start off with us exchanging hats (mine a clinical black vinyl, hers a studious white satin). They progress to us sitting on each other's laps (in a medical way, obviously) and examining each other with a stethoscope.
Then, somewhat spectacularly, the final pictures are an impressive, interpretive display of two zombie and rat figurines which we have stolen from a nearby table, dressed in our nursing hats and forced to lay on top of one another ... as two 14-year-old girls might do with their old Barbies.
Inspired, I e-mail her and copy SP: “Mackenzie, if you love medicine so much, why do I have so many pictures of a very ill rat and zombie who were clearly in need of hospitalization instead of forced zombie-rat fornication?"
“This is a good point," Mackenzie writes back. “I am ashamed to admit that I looked the other way. Sometimes, I forget the Naughty Hippocratic Oath that I took."
“You were a bad nurse," I e-mail back. “Very, very bad."
Don't get me wrong.
I love dating Super Preppy and all.
But it's my friends who I will always count on - in naughtiness and in health.
mstadtmiller@nypost.com
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