Shame on Me?

This is a story direct from my seventh grade love life.

I had just won the only championship in my entire athletic career which ended under the scalpel of yet another surgeon. But then, in school, I was able to date 8^th graders which was a really big deal. Not necessarily for me, but to my friends in the 7^th grade.

So I go to this party after the BIG GAME which I saved when I brought down this man-boy from the Cajun country of Louisiana. This guy was at least 6’4” and 225 lbs. (102 kilos) if he was an ounce. We were winning the game 7-0 and they were on the two yard line. They handed the ball to this beast who dragged half of our team into the end zone.

The fact that we were even winning at all was a minor miracle.

Predictably, the huge fullback scored the touchdown. The score was now 7-6 and they were going to go for the two-point conversion (and the win). I played free safety and I inched up towards the line. I don’t know why, but I instinctively went out right.

I guessed right.

Our defense held in the middle as Big Boy lowered his head. He had to bounce outside and guess who was there at the two-yard line to meet him?

Moi.

As he rolled out, we were the only two in the stadium and I hit the big bastard at about the five-yard line. I was holding both his thighs which I could barely get my arms around. He dragged me to the ½ yard line where he stretched out his arms to get the ball across the goal line, but chalk this one up for little Maddogg.

Greenacres Jr. High 7 Springhill Jr. High 6.

Somehow, they lost a game to our fiercest rival, so we had them to thank for handing us the conference championship.

At the previously-mentioned victory party (before I got sidetracked) I was in this dark room and when I say dark, you could not see two feet in front of yourself. I ended up dancing and making out with this girl I had never met before. We spent hours just French kissing and she let me cop a few feels.

I left the party and I got the girl’s’ name and we agreed to meet in the cafeteria for lunch the next day.

I was sitting at a table and had saved a place for her.

As she approached me, I was shocked to see that, in the light of day, she had the worst case of acne I had ever seen. Her face and neck were covered with oozing, nasty sores, and I was kind of disgusted.

I know, I know.

Shallow.

I mean forget the fact that we were really taken with each other and our makeout session was nothing short of legendary. Forget that we talked about so many things and that we shared mutual interests. She was even into sports!

But her face….

She said hi, and I politely said I had a “nice” time at the party. I had no intention in hell to go out with her again.

Not with that face.

She came to the table and she looked at me as if she had no idea who or what I was.

“I can’t go out with you. You’re a Mexican,” she said, as she twirled and left.

It’s not very often you’ll find me speechless.

Stay well.

Here’s another video from the nursing home gig:

https://videopress.com/v/KyvUXffo?resizeToParent=true&cover=true&preloadContent=metadata&useAverageColor=true