Yesterday's story Here
ALL TRUE!
Every single bit of it was truth as I recall it. The guy lost both eyebrows and was so very fortunate to have not lost his sight.
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Some of the stories I have are not so amusing – or at least they weren’t at the time.
I remember having an enormous crush on this one particular guy…
At our school, there was a community centre where the 15-16 year-old pupils could hang-out in at break times. That was our main goal at school – to be old enough to get out of the cold.
We weren’t allowed in the classrooms – too much opportunity for destruction and disruption I suppose.
The community centre area comprised of a set of comfy chairs to lounge on – we never got the chance because the kids that had left school always arrived a few minutes before our lessons ended and took the seats.
At the other end of that area was a licenced bar – no, it was never open when school was in session – that would be ludicrous!
There was also a pool table (more difficult to steal because of the teachers constantly on-hand).
The ex-pupils that hadn’t yet found jobs used to come and play pool, chat-up the girls and generally waste their time ‘shooting the shit’ – anything rather than looking for a job, I suppose.
I took a particular shine to one guy and my friends all teased me about him. I was way too shy to chat to him or make myself known to him. I did what so many shy teens do – day-dreamed.
One day, my friends decided they were going to do something about it, instead of leaving me to moon over him playing pool all lunch-time. They were going to make sure he noticed me and spoke to me!
I wasn’t sure that was the best idea anyone had ever had and I hung back – like always.
What you have to remember is that I’m a Ginger and I got teased – a lot. I wasn’t self-confident and was less than self-assured where members of the opposite sex were concerned… and then, paradoxically, I’d be really self-assured and scare them off. No middle-ground anywhere!
So one of my good friends decided to put me forward, show me in my best light… I couldn’t see it working, but what the hell.
I don’t even remember the guy’s name. I cannot recall exactly what he looked like – probably my ‘type’ of course - slim, not too tall, cheeky grin.
He was playing pool and I sat watching his every move (as usual). My friend started talking to me, loudly across the pool table. She positioned herself right behind the boy I liked, so that to reply to her, it looked like I was looking directly at him.
(Oh boy, this is making me uncomfortable, just remembering it)…
I’m assuming it was late January / early February because she said, “Michelle, have you got a Valentine’s card yet?”
“Yeah, I have,” says I…
‘I can see where this is going,” I thought to myself. ‘And I don’t think I like it…’
She grinned like a loon because she thought it was going so well.
He carried on playing pool and I have no idea what he thought was going on.
“Michelle!” she called again… louder. By this time, everyone in the area was taking notice of what was about to unfold. (Isn’t it weird… there’s a natural instinct for EVERYONE to all be looking at the right place at just the right time for optimum embarrassment?)
“Yeah?” says I in a voice that cringed inwardly if not outwardly.
“Are you gonna give that Valentine’s card to Boy’s name then?”
Well. That was it… it was all out in the open now. I had two choices, run away and hide (forever) or brazen it out.
I had a go at brazening it out…
“I might do…” I said, with a confident nonchalance I did not feel.
“Don’t fucking bother!” said the lad of my dreams, dashing the dream-boat onto the rocks of disappointment.
I could visualise all the little passengers on this boat of dreams leaping from the decks as the shipwreck destroyed their little vessel – not to mention a little more of my confidence. This shipwreck involved tidal waves of disappointment that did nothing to engulf the molten lava of embarrassment.
“OK,” I said. “I won’t.”
No snappy put-down. No witty quip that destroyed his self-confidence like he had mine. Nothing.
I walked off with as much dignity as I could muster (not much) and stopped mooning over him. So that was one good thing that came from it, at least.
A few years later, I saw him again. He did a double-take and every time I looked around, his eyes were on me.
I gave myself a pat on the back for ignoring him – not that it was difficult to show how happy I was. I was heavily pregnant, walking with my husband.
No regrets!
So...
Fact or Fiction?