Girls

As far back as I can remember, I was fascinated and a little scared of girls, It was more than a little fascination, I liked being around them. Fortunately I grew tall quickly and I paid close attention to my hair. I found these two things an attribute when attempting to get close to a cute girl.  Unlike guys, who tended to hang out with only one other buddy, girls moved about in gaggles or clumps. This was often  an insurmountable roadblock  in getting through to one’s desired target. With the benefit of age, I realized this was by design, but when you are fourteen and unable to control your hormones or verbal acuity, it was terribly frustrating. So, as often was the case, I was left alone on my bike with my thoughts and desires.

Wednesday night Church was a great help in learning how to navigate co-educational waters. I don’t remember much about weekly  lessons, but I learned quickly that grabbing a seat next to the girl of my choice, was accomplished easier, by showing up early for the meeting. I think this is where my life long affinity for always being on time , began.

Getting the seat and getting the attention proved , many times, to be two separate tasks. Cologne seemed to help, or at least it didn’t hurt, and I still use it every day. Mostly, I didn’t want to talk, I just wanted to touch. Mostly, the girls just wanted to talk and did not want to be touched. So , this was my dilemma, how to get past talking  so we could get on to touching. 

For sure, it was not going to happen at Wednesday Night Church. However, it might happen if I could muster up the courage to ask the one question that was sure to illicit a negative response, “can I walk you home?” It took weeks of practice in front of the mirror in my bedroom to perfect this seemingly off the cuff inquiry. When the stars finally lined up and the question came out in what sounded like a succession of burps, the intended recipient just starred at me for about two minutes and then ran to the safety of her gaggle. Having been prepared for a negative response, I had not factored in any preparation for no response. The whole situation was not assuaged by my best buddy as we were walking home. “Boy did you look stupid” he assured me. I hardly heard him, I was thinking ahead to school in the morning. How was I going to handle that? As it turned out, my reputation got to school before I did. The guys thought I was cool and the girls, well, they just thought I was tall with nice hair.

Growing up in the early sixties was not going to be easy, but I was not going to give up.