Whereby I Prove How Much of a Loser I Was

When I was in the sixth grade, I went to my first dance. My middle school had a '50s Day when students (read: mainly girls) dressed up in clothes from that era, and at the end of the day, we had a "sock hop" in the gym. The best part of the day was sixth period. My friends and I had P.E., but since the gym was being readied for the dance, we didn't have to dress out or do anything that would cause us to break out in a sweat. We were able to sit around and talk for an hour.

Of course, I didn't have a date for this dance, and had I known it would be one of many dances I would go to without a date, I probably would have just avoided it, gone home, and immersed myself in black for the next six years.

Yet somewhere in my mind — warped by the escapades of Bo and Hope on Days of Our Lives (and later, Patch and Kayla), I actually thought that a guy would be there who would think I was pretty and have the guts to ask me to dance.

Madonna's "Crazy for You" would start to play, and our eyes would meet from across the gym. He'd stroll over to me in his Converse high-tops — with his light brown feathered hair and Izod shirt with the collar turned up.

Oh yes, people, I was that pathetic.

Of course, the dance turned out like your stereotypical early adolescence mixer. Hardly anyone showed up. The girls outnumbered the guys 10 to 1, and the guys who did show up came with their girlfriends. Basically, I stood around with my friends, goofed off, drank soda, and ate popcorn — which we actually did during sixth period.

What I had almost forgotten about was how I got in trouble with my mom because I lied and said my friend's mother was picking us up when really my friend's older brother brought us home. My mother didn't want me riding with a barely experienced teenage driver (especially a boy), and telling her the mother was my method of getting home was key to gaining permission to go to the dance.

Yet, as boring as this dance was, the experience didn't stop me from going to a bunch of others — even if I didn't have a date. 


6 thoughts on “Whereby I Prove How Much of a Loser I Was

Add yours

  1. Awww…the song “Crazy for you” brings back so many memories. Mostly the one of when I was trying out for the Jazz Singers group and sang that song. I think I may post about that today, thanks for the idea.


  2. I still love that song. I played it over and over when it came out. I had to tape it off the radio because she didn’t put it on the album she released right after it came out, and I didn’t want to buy the Vision Quest soundtrack just for that song.

    But when I finally did get it taped, I almost wore it out! I was such the Madonna fan then. I still have every album on tape up until The Ultimate Collection. I keep meaning to get that one on CD.


  3. OKay…sounds like my first dance. I went, ate, and talked with friends. We didn’t dance and no one asked us. I soon stopped going. I think my last dance was 8th grade graduation (which was actually fun and a story in and of itself…maybe I should write about it!!) The next dance I went to was in 12th grade–Homecoming…oh my god it was a disaster (another story). That was the last dance I ever attended. Prom? Ha! Hell would freeze over before I went.

    Growing up is brutal! Don’t you think!


  4. Growing up is torture! Oh, I went to lots of dances, and only one of them I had a date for… in eighth grade.

    My senior prom? Went by myself. That’s right. By. My. Self.

    Who knows? Maybe I was better off. I didn’t have a terrible time. Sometimes I wish I had the date experience, but I don’t feel scarred for life because of it. Perhaps that’s because I found more important things in life.


  5. This entry brings back memories of when I was a loser. I went to junior high dances that were like this one and I never got asked to dance. On many occasions I watched my crushes dance with their girlfriends. I hoped this one guy would smile at me just like Jake Ryan smiled at Samantha in Sixteen Candles during the dance…but that never happened. Dances are for girls or couples. I was just there hoping something magical would happen 🙂


Thoughts, anyone? Anyone? Bueller?

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s

Blog at WordPress.com.

Up ↑

%d bloggers like this: