down with the duche.

Ever body odor conscious, I was the first to wage war on the Duche. I had been dependent on a morning and afternoon coffee to get me through the day, and was not one to argue with the full basket of fruity tootsie rolls which were free for the taking, but by November I noticed a strange and rather rancid smell coming from my fleece. Horrified, I identified it as the stench of stale cigarettes and Bernie B.O., and rushed home in a panic to wash it out. 

The very next morning I began my anti-Duche campaign, throwing myself into it with almost religious fervor. I was on a mission to exorcise the school of the foul odor, and anyone who dared to consort with the enemy faced my wrath.

As a main frequenter of the computer room, I was determined to keep it purified. I always grabbed the computer closest to the door so that I could do a subtle sniff check of every person entering. If they failed, I was immediately out of my chair and blocking their entrance.

"You've been at the DUCHE, haven't you?!?!"

"I.... I......" Cowering, pitiful. I take a step forward.

"WELL???" At this point they either flee or muster up courage.

"I just needed some coffee, Anne! I was desperate! You of all people should know how that is!"

"Yes, and that's why I now go to the Sablier!! Just around the corner, free chocolate! No rancid odor!"

"But..... but..... I need to check my e-mail! Please. I.... I won't go there ever again, I promise!" All eyes are on me, awaiting the verdict.

"Fine," I say before striding across the room, "But we'll need to air this place out while you're in here!" A collective groan goes up as I throw open the windows triumphantly.

"But it's freezing out, Anne!"

 
"Get a jacket, Martha!" Battle won, I settle back into my chair.

I managed to terrify most people into boycotting with me, but sometimes the Duche demons lured even the most unlikely suspects into temptation. Just before class one day, I caught Bonne slipping her purse under her coat on the way out the door with a guilty look.

"WHERE are you going?!" I bellowed, advancing on her menacingly.

"Bonne, please!!! I haven't had any coffee today and I'm dying!! I'm never going to make it through Math!!" She was practically crying, wild-eyed and pleading. But I showed no mercy.

"You have to think about the consequences of your actions, Bonne. This is larger than just you or I. That smell's going to attach itself to everyone in the school!!!" For a moment, I thought she was relenting. And then, in a moment of rebellion, she slipped by me and darted out the door, waving her purse triumphantly in the air.

"BONNE!" I shrieked, "That's IT! You've sacrificed our friendship all for the sake of some burned, nasty coffee!!"

There were still the Duche loyalists, and they accused me of betraying Bernie as I had once been one of them. Their comments left me with a twinge of guilt and nostalgia for those early days spent at the Cafe, laughing and posing for pictures with the gigantic Bernie statue outside. But, this was war. There could be no mercy.