September 25, 2007
Gimme a B!
Wait, wait, wait! I have a favorite story from high school that doesn't involve me getting violent or blacklisted! I remembered it Friday night when WG and I were talking about our high school reunion, and the name Amy M. came up.
Yes, WG and I are on speaking terms, despite the spelunking and the Coke. I have to respect any teen who can use spelunking in a sentence at a moment's notice, thus my energies are best directed towards other revenges. Besides, he has switched to Diet Coke, and that's not nearly as sticky as Classic Coke, so why bother throwing it?
Okay, the high school I went to had not only a cheerleading team, but also a pom-pom squad. Thee Pom-Pom Squad. Our pom-poms were state champions every damn year since Mary Magdalene first hiked up her skirt and yelled, "Go, Jesus!"
And just like every high school themed movie you've ever scene, the pom-poms were the prettiest girls in school. And the most popular. And the richest. And the sluttiest. And the bitchiest.
With a few rare exceptions. (I'm legally obligated to add that last sentence because Husband's Ex was a pom-pom, back in the day, and so was WG's wife. D'oh!)
Amy M. was the prettiest, richest, bitchiest of them all. Shiney blond hair, blue eyes, and big, big boobies. Your basic nightmare.
The pom-poms performed in the V-show every year. They used their coach's office as their dressing room, which was located in the Performing Arts wing by the stage, and not in the Athletic wing. Weird.
Anyhoo,... oh crap. I had not anticipated this next part of the story. I mean, I know the story because I'm telling it, but I forgot that relaying this information would just put another notch in my nerdy belt.
Okay. We played handbells. At my church, to be considered cool, the high schoolers had to play in the junior handbell choir. I shit you not. It was a whooooooooooooole different set of rules back then, folks.
And frankly, we were damn good. We played a Scott Joplin piece in the V-show -- I think it was "The Entertainer." I was in the choir, as was Billi and WG, and many other people not worth mentioning here because I will never blog about them again.
But EH is worth mentioning. Picture... Ron Weasley, only taller, skinnier, and even more socially awkward. Sweet guy, but quite the late-bloomer, to put it kindly.
Because the handbells are worth thousands and thousands of dollars, the drama teacher insisted that we store them in a locked office. But not his. EH was in there one evening, making sure they were all put away properly after our number, and ensuring that the cases were in the way as little as possible.
Convinced the pom-pom coach would not trip over them, he stood up to leave. Just then the door opened and in came the pom-pom squad. Amy M. was busy critiqueing their performance as she took her top off, so she didn't notice EH standing there. Staring. At her boobies.
Deer in the headlights doesn't even begin to describe it.
I don't know who screamed louder -- Amy M. or EH. He bolted out of the room, chased by the shrieks and laughter of twenty pom-poms.
For anyone other male in the school, the incident would have been a badge or honor, carried proudly to graduation and beyond. But EH was horrified and left the room whenever anyone mentioned it. Which was often. Indeed, I believe it was daily for the following six months.
And he didn't even get blacklisted from the pom-pom coach's office. No fair.
Comments
"Our pom-poms were state champions every damn year since Mary Magdalene first hiked up her skirt and yelled, "Go, Jesus!"
I hope that one day I will be able to write something even remotely as funny as that. You really are gifted, and I mean that in the nicest way possible. :)
Posted by: Shannon Erin at September 27, 2007 10:50 AM