This particular fast food joint is close to the junior high so many friends meet in the am for breakfast together at this fine establishment of culinary delight.
One of the boys eating his breakfast looked just like my sixth grade crush. He had long blonde hair (to the shoulders) and it was feathered back in the front. He carried his skate board and walked with a swagger that said "Yeah, lady, I know I am hot".
For a moment I felt like I was back in sixth grade pining for Richard Zerky. All the girls liked him. He was totally cool. Not very bright, if I remember correctly, but totally cute.
My family lived by the beach at the top of a very big hill. Richard and his friends would show up on the weekends or after school to ride their skate boards down our very long hilly street.
My friends and I would sneak out to secretively watch them, though I am sure they knew we were their. I thought Richard was the dreamiest boy ever. Unfortunately, he only had eyes for Stacie Olson. I knew in my heart he was way out of my league.
One Saturday afternoon Richard showed up to skate down my street. My girlfriends went out to watch him (I was gone with my family somewhere that day) and came up with what they thought was a brilliant idea. They would write love letters to Richard and sign my name.
They scurried into the house and wrote several letters to him professing my unyielding love and admiration, signed my name, and ran outside to deliver them to him.
When I got home they were so excited to tell me what they had done. I was, of course, mortified. How could they have done this to me?
I was so sick to my stomach over the whole thing I refused to go to school on Monday. How could I face him and his friends? My mom told me to be brave and just explain to him what happened. I didn't write the notes, my friends did.
So, Tuesday morning I went to school, dreading it with every step I took. When I walked into the classroom I felt like every eye was upon me. In truth, I am sure they were, my love letters had become a thing of legend in the 48 hours since they had been written.
Our sixth grade class had been working on creating products for a store we were to hold for some of the other classes. Each group came up with a product to sell, had to plan out the design, cost, and advertising strategies for their product. Guess who's group I was in? You guessed it, Richards and Stacie Olson's. Ugh.
Our teacher told us to break into our groups to get to work. My group was sent outside to work at the picnic tables. Just Great! This meant I would be alone with Richard, Stacie and few of "their" friends. I was definitely out numbered.
Immediately upon reaching the picnic tables Richard says to me (I will never forget this) Julie, Julie, Julie, why did you write me those pathetic letters? You know I could never like you, you aren't my type.
Turning bright red with embarrassment I tried to explain that I hadn't written the letters. Lisa and Donna wrote them as a joke and signed my name. "Sure, yeah right" he said. It was no use. No one would believe I didn't write the letters and my "good" friends wouldn't admit they wrote them. I was doomed.
Years later this incident still bothers me. When I think about it I can still feel the embarrassment and pain of that 12 year old girl.
Just to look at that boy through the window could muster all this back up in my head over thirty years later.
Why is this Internets? Do you have memories of long ago that rear their ugly little heads every once in a while?
I witness this same type of drama in my own teens life and wish I could take it away. Oh, the joys of youth.
A man of knowledge uses words with restraint,
and a man of understanding is even-tempered.
He who guards his mouth and his tongue
keeps himself from calamity.
Editors Note: Several years later I saw Richard at a High School Football game. I had left my ugly duckling stage and blossomed into a swan. He came up to talk with me and asked if I would like to go and get a coke. "No thanks" I responded "Your not really my type". I don't think he knew who I was, though I heard someone told him later. I would have loved to have seen his face when he found out. Hee hee hee.
Labels: Mom Stuff