OUT OF DATE

My first official date, where a guy actually called in advance, came to my house to pick me up, took me somewhere, and brought me back home, was right before I started 7th grade. I was barely twelve years old, and my date, Jimmy Mac, was still eleven. He invited me to the Elks Club Back-to-School Dance in Independence--high society stuff.

Now, I don’t know why Jimmy Mac asked me out, because it wasn’t like we’d been making googly eyes at each other at the swimming pool all summer. He must have been impressed with my spelling skills or the fact that I was a fast runner. Truth be known, I was not likely his first choice…or second, or third. I was probably just the only girl who’d said, “Yes” to the offer. I’d known Jimmy Mac since first grade, and we’d played many a rousing game of kick-the-can together in the intervening years, so he was a safe bet.

We doubled with an older couple, freshmen, and since no one was legal to drive and Independence was too far away for bicycles, one of the dads drove us to the dance. Now, normally, I was a loud mouth, but I recall pretty much having the personality of a turnip during the ride there. I was too self-conscious…even though I looked spectacular in my navy blue gathered skirt, navy penny loafers, white blouse, owl pins on the collar edges, and trademark ponytail…swish, swish.

The Elks Club was definitely a cut above Fredonia’s Teentown, so I was impressed. The party room was darker, too. Although we danced a lot, I can recall being somewhat disappointed because we were the only kids there from Fredonia and I didn’t know anyone else. There were no opportunities to dash off with my girlfriends and gossip in the restroom for an hour or so. I had to concentrate on spending the entire night trying to make intelligent conversation with Jimmy Mac!

Well, nothing catastrophic happened on the date. I didn’t spill cola all over myself, or drip sweat down my armpits, or step on Jimmy Mac’s feet with my dainty size 10s. So, I won’t embellish with any nonsense that he could sue me over. He got Cinderella home on time and spared me the uncomfortable fumbling of a good night kiss. A love connection was not made; we never had another date together. In fact, I think it was two years or more before I even had another official date with anyone! Oh, well. We girls are allowed to have our dry spells. Right?