The poor kid is scared of us. Yeah, I can hear you saying, “Well, who wouldn’t be?” But, come on, we knock ourselves out trying to be kind. We invite him for meals and he takes a teaspoon of a couple of things and manages to get it down. He and his very nice dad live together and I doubt they eat very formally. But the point is, neither do we. We do use cloth place mats but most often, use paper napkins for example.
When I was in high school, here in Atlanta, I kind of grew up at the First Baptist Church, on the block between 5th and 4th Sts, facing Peachtree. This was probably the closest church to Ga. Tech. I did not date a lot but when I did, it was Tech freshmen and sophomores. Our church had a grand young people’s program and my brother and I were active members. Most every social activity was in a group.
Every now and then, I’d date a boy for a while, never anything serious.
One guy I dated, Scott, was from a small, south Georgia town. He was short, about my height, and his voice was changing. When he called, his voice either squeaked or ran up and down the scale. My dad, one of the kindest men on earth, could barely control his mirth when Scott called. That boy just tickled him to death. Dad often answered the phone, pointed at me, and rushed out to the front porch so he could laugh without being heard.
Curtis was another fellow who “ called on” me. That child was nearly as round as he was tall. Freshman didn’t have cars and it was a right long walk to my house. He called one day, saying he had a present for my dad and asked if he could come over. He showed up about an hour later, hugging a big, round watermelon. He had walked about twenty blocks, in Atlanta summer heat. His face was red and he was exhausted. I told Dad he should at least go out with Curtis after the boy had made such an effort.
I did have one real date when I was 15. This was an Atlanta guy who looked like a young Elvis and was old enough to drive. I thought he was just about the best looking guy I’d ever seen. He asked me out a week in advance. I bit my fingernails until Elvis asked me out but was horrified to know they wouldn’t grow out and be pretty in one week. I’ve never bitten them again.
Now I should explain that I knew absolutely nothing about sex, zero, nothing! Before going out with Elvis, my mother succeeded in pretty well scaring me to death. I was not to even let a boy touch me. Why, even holding hands could cause some boys to get all excited , start jumping around, and not be able to control themselves. I had visions of Elvis foaming at the mouth and jiggling all 6ft 2inches of him. I mean, why on earth would they get excited and go nuts like that? At any rate, I knew I didn’t want to cause it!
When the big night arrived, we went to the Fox Theatre to see “Little Women.” About ¾’s of the way through the movie, I announced that I had to go home and insisted that he take me home. No, I couldn’t tell him why. I wouldn’t go to the Varsity for a hot dog. I just wanted to go home. I needed to go to the bathroom and was too mortified to tell him. Of course he never called again and it was a shame because he was a very nice, sweet guy.
I’m happy to explain that I did date a lot of cute guys, during college years, and even got up the nerve to go to the Ladies’ room when I needed to go. During my freshman year at UGA, I was female soloist with the GA [men’s] Glee Club. It was kind of traditional for the guys to take out their soloist, I think .I know they did, at least, and it was fun. You know, I never did see any of the guys get excited, start drooling, and jumping around ! Hmmmmn, wonder if my mom was just sexier than me -------- or if she just dated some real screwballs?!
One interesting sort of date I had was with three of the guys at the same time. I learned that they rented an old house together and they had me over for a delicious dinner. They were upper classmen, music majors, and were lots of fun. I had never even heard of homosexuals, men or women, so had no clue. They were sweet to this exceedingly dumb little girl.
The only man I ever had much trouble with was a young Baptist preacher. My parents knew him from church or he was someone’s son or cousin or something. He got it into his head that I should quit college, marry him, and use my music to be a perfect preacher’s wife. Oh, how wrong, just plain damn dumb, he was! Then, he developed about nine hands so I refused to ever go out with him again. My parents’eyes got big as baseballs when I told them about his shenanigans.
Back then, girls married younger than they do now, I guess. When I was about a junior in college, one of Mother’s sisters told me she had put my name on her prayer group’s list. I asked why she did that and she said in a low, kind of whispery voice, for me to find a husband, of course. She was not pleased that I giggled!
I had been 23 years old for 39 days when I married, so guess I was kind of long in the tooth. At about that time, lots of our local men were coming home from Korea, finished with school, and ready to settle down. I made sure that the same aunt that prayed for me to get married, got invited to every shower and trousseau tea I was given. She had the pleasure of buying a gift for every one. She threatened to just buy a set of wood salad bowls, very popular at that time, and give me one at each party. She didn’t do it tho’, she was a good sport.
I hope Pickle learns to relax around us a bit, and I hope Alesia has fun with him, but I sure want her to wait until after college to get married.
Me during the dating years..
Elva, how pretty you were in your gown. I know what you mean. Ken and I were adament the girls got college educations before they married. We wanted to know they would always be able to take care of themselves.
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