The Ladies Man

This story is from my seventh grade year spent at the Greenfield Middle School. I was a pretty quiet kid in school and my nose was usually buried in a book. Ahh, books. I read lots of books that year: the Hitchhiker’s Guide series, Star Trek: The Next Generation series, and for some reason computer repair manuals. I used to be really into computers, not these modern marvels but old school 8088, 80286 and 80386 machines with 2400, 9600 and 14.4kbps modems that connected to ASCII based BBS systems. Those were the days, but that’s also another story.

[RETRO-SPEAK: After the middle school, I chose the Franklin County Technical Vocational High school instead of the more academically focused Greenfield High school. I didn’t see myself going to college right away and like the idea that I’d have training right out of high school to get a decent job. I set out looking for computer support work. No, thanks. I’ve lost complete interest in computer support because of how incredibly dumb most people (who I’ve assisted, supported, or what have you) are! No body reads! It’s also too stressful. I’m pretty sure monitors are sources of low-level gamma radiation – I’ve been feeling Hulk-ish. As of this writing, I’ve been employed, working on/with computers, for various lengths at no less than twenty different employers. Some positions were temp but most I just quit. My wages have varied from $5.75 to $14.25 an hour. I’m still on the quest for employment happiness. Also, I have yet to enroll in college. Most people I know who’ve graduated with their little BA are complete dumb asses. Maybe it’s the crowd I roll with.]

I had just moved on from the hair pulling, teasing because I like you stage and on to the note passing stage but not quiet to the actually talking with the girl I like stage. Girls were developing in all the right places and I was taking notice. Some were developing but were staying prime and proper, some were changing their look to flaunt their newly developed asses and others looked like they emerged from the cocoon too early and were stuck mid-metamorphoses.

[PERV-SPEAK: One of the best happenings in my middle school career was a scene I witnessed one day in my seventh grade science class. Class had just started and in walked in a tardy female student. She was a known troublemaker, a rebel of the establishment. If not for the oversized, aviator style glasses I wore back in the day, my eyes would have jumped from their sockets and leaped across the room. In she walked wearing a red flannel half shirt (must have been a “custom” made jobbie, I’ve never seen a flannel shirt like that before and haven't since). The bottoms of her large, bountiful breasts, covered by a white silky bra of course, were exposed where the shirt ended. Needless to say, I’m not really sure what the lesson plan was that day. Unfortunately, that was as close as I got to see breasts that year. I’m sure that it’s a sad occurrence when young girls are burdened with large, bouncy fun bags. As a hard up (pre)teen boy, it’s hard to believe anything bad could come from something so wonderful. As a father who is currently expecting his next child, a child who has yet to be discovered to be a boy or a girl, I have to say that girls like her scare the hell out of me! Oh please, oh please, be a boy!]

It was just another day in my English class. Throughout my school career, English was one of my favorite subjects. Given my rather limited vocabulary, poor grammar and tendency to misuse words, you may be surprised that I’ve even attended such a class. There was nothing special about my seventh grade English teacher; she was an older lady who taught from the “old school” and wasn’t with it when it came to the youth. It wasn’t her teaching technique that had forever etched her class on these little gray cells of mine. No, it was because of just one incident. An incident involving a girl. We had just finished reading some story in class. I remember neither the name of the story or a any quotes, I only have a vague recollection that the story dealt role reversals of men and women in society. To demonstrate the point, the teacher called on volunteers to come in front of the class and act out some scenes. The teacher first called on girls to volunteer, a lovely young girl, who we’ll call Emily, was selected. Then the teacher called for boy volunteers. Apparently not raising your hand and raising your hand are one in the same as I was also selected. So, there I was, in front of the class with this extremely cute girl by my side and then the bomb was dropped. “Emily, I would like you to ask Mike out. Like you would for a date.” Immediately, I was flushed with embarrassment and retreated inside. Oh boy, shy is an understatement. After a brief pause and a deep breath Emily ask, “So, Mike, do you like to…” Oh, bless her. She tried. She asked about my interest in television, sports, movies, books, going to the local park. Nothing. To every question, I’d reply with a quick “No”, “Don’t really like that”, or “I’m not really into that.” I would have been totally out of my comfort zone talking with her like that one on one, let alone in front of the entire class! Finally, after I had turned down one suggestion too many, the teacher stepped in and suggested that I just go with it. “So, do you like baseball?” There was a bit of annoyance in her voice. “Yeah, it’s ok.” Mumbled it, but successful! “I have a couple of tickets to the Red Sox’s, would you like to go to the game with me?” “Sure.” And, scene. The teacher called for applause and we were allowed to return to our seats. Her friends comforted her upon her return and I took the walk of shame back to my seat, object of ridicule. The whole skit seemed to have lasted an hour but was probably only ten minutes. I never pursued Emily and, oddly enough, she never pursued me. She hung out with the jockish kids and seemed pretty much unapproachable to a kid like me. After the Middle School she went on to the Greenfield High School. I haven’t seen her since. I wonder if she remembers that oddball kid who she stood in front of an English class with her, unwilling to be asked out!