Thursday, June 02, 2005
Both Jamie Dawn and Ole Hoss have been telling stories about their misspent youth, so I got to thinking about my own.
I was a pretty good kid. Okay, bratty to my three older sisters. Oh, yeah, there was that thing where my peeps and I would put condoms on tailpipes (makes a nice exploding noise when people drive off), but that's harmless, no?
Okay, all right, my friends and I did a bunch of stupid phone call stunts, but everyone does that I'm sure. But at least I never tipped over an outhouse.
But I did pull at least one dumb ass, really stupid deed, although it was not on purpose.
I was about 14. My church was having a hayride to which all my girl friends were inviting dates. I definitely didn't want to go with a guy from church, and I definitely didn't want to be the only girl without a date, and I definitely had a crush on a guy in my Algebra class whose name was Doyle.
So I spend two days or so working up courage to call Doyle on the phone. Couldn't risk rejection face to face. I call him. I ask him to the hayride. He says he has to ask his mother, comes back to the phone and says, "My mother says that I have to go visit my aunt that Saturday."
Okay. I can take a hint. Don't have to hit me over the head with a hammer. I know that he just doesn't want to go with me on a hayride. He's just been using me for my Algebra talents. I'm crushed and embarrassed, but I'll live. So, I move on. I call a sweet, dependable, smart guy that I've known since third grade, and ask him to the hayride. He says, "Yes." I'm saved. I have a date.
But wait. Doyle calls me the next day and says, "My mom says that I can stay home when she goes to my aunt's house, so that I can go to the hayride with you." Hoo boy. I have one minute or less, to do the right thing and say, "I really, really wanted to take YOU to the hayride, but since you said 'No,' I already asked someone else. I'm sorry." Did I do the right thing? Heck no. I said, "Great!" I'm a pig.
Do I ask an adult what to do? Of course not! I do a Brady-bunch-agony-twist-in-the-wind for days. My girlfriends both at church and at school are all on the job trying to figure out what I should do. The day of the hayride is drawing closer. What to do, what to do?
GET SICK. It was the only answer. And I did get sick. Really sick. Truly sick. I actually got Scarlet Fever! What a relief! The only problem then was that I was too sick to use the phone. I had to confess to my oldest sister, Mary, so that she could call and cancel the dates for me. She yelled and fussed and carried on at me, "A*** N******* P******** (my whole, entire name) what were you thinking? How could you do such a thing?" What a hullabaloo and brouhaha. (I've been waiting all day to use those words.) She almost told my mother.
But Mary called both guys and cancelled for me, fussed at me some more, then perked up because doctors made house calls in those days and she thought the doctor was very handsome.
And that's my tom foolery story. (Thanks to Melissa W for that word.)