Thursday, June 30, 2005

Something completely different

An anecdote from my actual life

One year for homecoming, I had two dates. I have no photographic proof of this, but believe me when I say it happened.

The time frame: October 1996. I was a junior in high school. The week before, I had come upon my first homecoming date in an odd way. At the football game immediately preceding homecoming week, we were playing our crosstown rivals on their home turf. Both teams were playoff bound, thus making it a very well-hyped and well-attended event. Our fans, too massive to avoid spilling out of the stands, were clasped to the fence as if they wanted a shot at the cheerleaders standing on the track just feet away. I was the head football manager, fortunate enough to have a perfect view of both the game and the cheerleaders' asses.

At the end of the fourth quarter, our team was down by two points. Stuck on our own 10-yard line with barely two minutes left to play, we seemed done for. We could already see and hear the condescending "YEE-HAW!" jeers of the rival teams' fans. On the sidelines, we gritted our teeth at the thought of these hicks holding a celebration bonfire or pig roast or hayride or whatever it fuck it was these yahoos did when they won.

Fast forward about 80 yards, because this is a date post, not a football post. After a miraculous offensive drive downfield, we kicked the winning field goal. Our side went nuts while the hicks grew silent. Indeed, such was the celebratory mood that several dozen students stormed the field, apparently ignorant of the fact that we still had three seconds left to play. Close call. Whew. Well, after we managed to burn up those three seconds and preserve our one-point victory (and thus retaining the Cypress Trophy hoarded each year by the showdown's winner), I was running around, hugging everyone in sight (along with everyone else, smartass). Before I knew it, I found myself in the arms of a girl. She was a friend of a friend, someone who had randomly stormed the field.

"Hey Ian! I have something to tell you, but you know, I'll do it Monday," she said. "I'm too nervous right now."

"Hey, babe, whatever it is, you got it!" I told her, and she smiled really big. Looked like I had two reasons to celebrate that night.

So that's how I got my first homecoming date. As the week went by, I spent lunch days with her and we got to talking. Her name was Cassandra, and she was a freshman in a group of girls with whom I often hung out. Not bad looking, but not quite the model I had seen in the haze of stadium lights and my own rose-colored victory glasses. Still, we made arrangements to meet at the dance.

The night of the dance, I rode with my college-freshdude brother and his girlfriend, who was my age. This wasn't by choice, but having no car myself it was my only gameplan. Real suave stuff. So I get there, only to find that I can't find Cassandra. I mingled my way through the throng, hoping to spot her before my friends started to doubt the existence of my date. Finally, I located her, waiting in line with her friends for pictures. I don't know if it was the darkness of the strobe-lit gym or her apathetic reaction when seeing me or what, but something suddenly made her unattractive to me. I got that very chilling feeling people often get when they realize that they're stuck in a bad situation. Still, I was cordial and tried my best to have fun.

But as an agonizing hour went by, I found myself barely able to dance, laugh or even talk. To this day, I still don't know what went on, though I strongly suspect some internal drama between her and her friends. All I know is that, after a while, I drifted off. Just like that. If she wasn't going to have fun, then I was going to find my own way. After some time, Cass came up to me, gave what had to be my least-romantic first kiss ever, and said she was leaving. She did not offer a hug.

Not long after, I ran into my best friend and his date, who had come separately. His date--way too hot for him, I thought with a smirk--had a friend named Crystal. The attraction was instant. She was a blonde, blue-eyed beauty. Like me, she was fun and outgoing. Like me, she also had a date. He was some tall doofus who was neglecting her. So we told him that we had known each other for a long time--the perfect excuse for us to "reminisce" with a little sensual slow-dancing. By the end of the dance, she and I were clearly attached. We made a date for the following weekend. I told her I had to go and wait for my brother outside.

I stood outside, enjoying the cool (for Louisiana) October air, a teenage boy reveling in my dual-datery. I couldn't wait to tell my brother--well, actually, I found out I could wait. And wait. And wait. And wait. True to form, he was working on his own timetable. I called it, "Colin minutes." Aggravating.

After a while, Crystal comes out. We were both pleasantly surprised to see each other. Before we know it, we're making out, mere feet away from the vice principal. Right at that moment, my brother pulls up. Nice. He was proud of me. I still get shivers from thinking about that kiss. From then on, Crystal and I were always up for sharing that awesome night on the phone. We spent much time at school and weekends together. For the two weeks we went out, it was magic.

The morals of this story?

1) Big brothers can be real dicks sometimes.
2) Lafayette High is much better than Acadiana High.
3) Bob Dole never really had a chance in 1996.
4) Having two dates in one night rules. If at least one is fun.


Phillip said...

so ian likes the blond-haired blue-eyed type eh??? i won't infer anything.

incidentally, lafayette and acadiana high suck. comeaux rules.

i made a funny.

Ian McGibboney said...

You did make a funny, phizz. Commode High is what we called it the year the football team went 0-10. But I have lots of friends from there, so it's all good.

As for my taste in women--actually, I think I can count on one hand how many blondes I've dated. It's probably because I prefer brunettes, but I would date blondes and redheads if the opportunity arose. I'm just a picky bastard, so I usually wind up dating nobody.

Joe said...

Wow, that was hard to masturbate to, but when you got to the part about making out next to the vice principle, that was enough to put me over the top. Thanks.

Ian McGibboney said...

Joe, you might find this easier for masturbation.