Black Eyes And Black Guys

Best Friend: You can't really tell now that it's healing. But it looked awful when it first happened.
Me: Yeah, those hurt like a mofo at first. After that they just look ugly.
Best Friend: Yeah? So glad I've never had a black guy.
Me: Um...okay. Not sure why you would mention that now.
Best Friend: Um because it's relevant to the convo?
Me: I've never had one either. Just for the record.
Best Friend: Liar. You had one in 5th grade, the week of school pictures.
Best Friend: I remember because I'm the one who gave it to you lol
Me: LOL. I had one in 5th grade huh? One that you gave to me?
Best Friend: Yes. Why is that funny?
Me: Re-read your texts from the beginning of this subject
Best Friend: LMAO!!
Best Friend: Maybe I just felt like stating I'd never been with a black guy!
Me: lol Riiiiight. That was hysterical
Best Friend: LOL Your texts are even better once I realize what you were referring to.
Best Friend: You could've told me, jerk lol
Me: LOL Where's the fun in that?
Me: You saying you gave me a black guy in fifth grade? Now that's comedy
Best Friend: LOL Yes. It is.

I was asked (read: am being forced) to add an addendum to the above conversation. My best friend freely and without coercion admitted to hitting me in the head with a baseball bat, which resulted in bodily injury to yours truly. Despite this FREE AND CLEAR ADMISSION, I am to relay the entire story so as not to damage her (supposedly) pristine reputation.
It was the summer of our tenth year and we were all playing baseball in the back yard. My team was leading and I was next up to bat when I heard someone call my name. I turned around and was viciously hit with a baseball bat. Not only was my eye blackened (and my modeling career ended) but my soul was shattered upon realizing it was my own best friend who had delivered the blow. It is a day that lives in infamy. Novels were written about the incident. Poems were written about my pain. At least, that's how I remember it.
Although some parts of that story are true, 99.999999% was dramatized for the purposes of this post. So what really happened? We were playing baseball and it was summer and I was the lucky recipient of a black eye thanks to a swing from a baseball bat my best friend was using. That's all true. However there was no malicious intent behind that swing. Far from it. I got hit because I'm a moron who didn't stand far enough away from the action. See, she swung the bat while l was standing about a foot behind her and not paying attention. Her follow through caught me right in the left eye and I dropped like a sack of potatoes. The bat was some kind of foam and plastic hybrid and was solid on the inside so it had more heft to it than a 1980's plastic bat, but not as much heft as a wooden or metal bat (thank god). My eye swelled up and was literally black, not purple or blue, by night's end. Of course this happened the week school started so I began fifth grade looking like I'd been in a bar brawl. School pictures were the week after and by then my eye had begun to heal and was a yellowish-purple color. That made for some stellar pictures. I hadn't thought about this story in ages, not until tonight's textual difficulties. And I barely remember it. I'm glad the best friend can fill in the blanks.