As a teenager, I was a serial dater. Or so my sister likes to say of me. Hey, it was a small town. There weren't
that many boys. There is, however, always one.
It was summer and summer was the time for dating. Mine LaMott Lake, the Corral Drive-In Theater, and the stock car races. How I loved those summer nights.
In every young woman's dating life there is a defining moment. The moment when the hottest guy in town asks you out and elevates your dating stock. I had that moment the summer between my Junior and Senior years in high school. And I had it in front of witnesses.
It was a Thursday and my Mother wanted to go into town to buy a pair of shoes. I had my hair in those enormous rollers we wore to make our hair straight. Mother didn't drive, I would be driving. But, my hair wasn't dry and mother didn't allow me to be seen in public in rollers.
My mother didn't let me chew gum in public either. She had her standards.So, I had to dry my hair before we left.
I would soon thank heaven for Mother's standards. We drove into town and parked across the street from the shoe store. Dad's cousin owned the shoe store located in the basement of the only drug store in town. The drug store was a local hangout. It had booths and a counter where they served food, soda, and ice cream. It was summer, the drugstore was full. It was also late afternoon and everyone with a car was already "shooting the strip." Town was uncommonly busy.
I parked the car directly across the street from the drug store. Mom and I were standing on the far side of the street waiting for the traffic to pass when
he came out of the drug store.
He waved. I waved back. "Hey,"
he yelled. "Are you doing anything Friday night?"
He didn't wait for my reply. Why would he, no one ever turned
him down. "Want to go to the stock car races?"
I smiled. Was
he talking to me? My heart was pounding and I was blushing. I composed myself. Then I heard the sound of my own voice saying, "Sure, call me and let me know what time." I sounded calm. I had not embarrassed myself.
Cars stopped on the street were now blowing their horns at us. Everyone was listening. He turned and got into that beautiful vintage car he drove. One more wave as he backed up and drove down the street. I had never felt like that before or since.
"Nice boy," my mother said. Even she knew who
he was.
It has been many years since that exchange. I don't remember our date as much as I remember that moment. And when a warm summer breeze blows through my hair, it is yesterday and that moment and I smile. I smile for the girl who got a date with
him.
My contribution to the 76th Carnival of Genealogy - How I spent My Summer Vacation.