The boy I spent 3 weeks following around, insinuating myself into his ‘older’ crowd and growing more and more AND MORE fond of with each passing moment stood in front of me packing his trumpet into his case.

Yes … three full weeks had gone by … no, I take that back. 25 full DAYS had passed since we’d met, and a mutual friend of our had spent the ENTIRE football game trying to convince him to ask me out.

So I had to wait.

For him to ask.

22 days had passed since I’d said my amazingly embarrassing ‘hello‘ and he’d smiled back at me. Between then and August 26, 1988, we’d gotten to know each other through band practices, him driving me up in his 1978 metallic blue Toyota Celica with his Kenwood stereo blasting, Cheerwine in a cooler in his trunk and his signature, bug-eyed, blue-green shades over his eyes.

Our band director had even come to learn he could rely on ‘this boy’ to haul my equipment from the band storage room all the way down to the field.

Yep … everyone knew we were beginning to be an item.

But we still hadn’t gone on a date.

Now, granted, I was 14. Getting away with dating at that age, while surrounded by chaperones and other students is one thing. But a date…

a real date …

Well that would be something else altogether different.

So there I stood the night of our my first-ever high school football game, killing time because our mutual friend PROMISED me that that trumpet-playing senior would ask me out.

She promised he would.

Even after 99% of everyone else had packed up and left … he still hadn’t said anything.

Nothing about following the football team, band and cheerleaders to Pizza Hut or to the Circle K or … anything.

Nothing.

So I kept waiting.

By then it had gotten to be past 10:00 pm (or 10:30 or something) and I knew soon I’d have to make my way out to the parking lot where my parents waited for me.

Not one to leave the relationship only in his hands (I did, if you will recall, go up to him first), I marched up to him … ready to say …

goodbye

when he turned his blue eyes up to me and said, “You going to Pizza Hut?”

And I said, “No.”

And he said, “Well, you’re coming with me.”

Cue trumpets! Cue balloons! Cue sparklers and fireworks! I was going on my first date … ever! With a Senior! With THE Senior! HIM!

“Oh … but wait. Um …”

His stare didn’t waver.

“You have to meet my parents first.”

The look he gave me is still etched in my mind. Deer-in-the-headlights. We all know it.

Luckily for me, I’d already forewarned my parents that I would be going out on a date. Come hell or high water, as the saying goes, that boy was going to ask me out.

Granted, he didn’t really ask, but I’ve learned to deal with that.

So, out we walked … to the middle of the parking lot where my 6’2″ Dad and 5’4″ Mom waited with my 10 year old sister. Upon telling my mother I was going on a date (yes, I told her and didn’t ask either — you see, HE is a bad influence on me), my Father turned to this Boy and said:

“You speed?”

The answer came out appropriate with a head shake and a ‘no’. If my Father believed him (or not) I’ll never know. Would you have?

That followed with two other questions that I don’t remember (clearly, they weren’t important because I already knew I’d ‘won’).

And then the dreaded ‘Be home by’ question arose.

The night had worn on to 11:00 pm (or something like that — I really don’t remember THOSE times because of what comes next), and I really wanted to stay OUT a while.

“Be home at 11:30,” my dad said.

“But —” Cautious not to use my whine voice, I added, “We just got out and everyone’s going to Pizza Hut and it takes a while. How about midnight?”

“How about 11:45pm,” my mother said and built up in me a little reason.

“Oh let her stay out until midnight,” the voice of some woman passerby said as my Dad and mom both laughed. Yes, some random lady was listening into our conversation and as so many southern women do, gave us her $.02.

“Pleeeeeeeeease, Dad,” I said. “Pleeeeeeeeease can I stay out to midnight?”

Remember, this is me asking at 14 years old.

Now here is what I can’t remember … who came up with the next number but it went something like this:

“We’ll split the difference. Be home by 11:52pm.”

And that was the end of the negotiations. (Seriously, my husband wonders where our kids get their powers of negotiation now 😉 ).

Me and my giddy self plopped into that car and took off.

On my very first date.

With the man of my dreams.

23 years ago today.

So can you guess what lunch will be today?? 🙂

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