The Formality of Dance

The Formality of a Dance

I’ve got to believe women invented dancing, men don’t have that kind of freedom in themselves, and formal dances like Homecoming and Proms couldn’t of come out of the mind of a guy. The fear I had was almost to much to handle, sure I was interested in females, but generally from a distance. And it started early for me, I got invited to a Homecoming my freshman year and how does a guy say no to a girl, unless of course it’s your sister, and she doesn’t really count.

I went to St. John the Baptist Grade school with an extremely sweet and soft spoken blonde named Nancy McKnight, and when I went off to Mater Dei she enrolled at the all girls high school, Marywood. Now I have to understand the strength she must of had to actually call me and ask me out, and although going out with a girl was the last thing on my simple mind, I accepted without hesitation. My mom was ecstatic my dad just rolled his eyes and at thirteen this was a first.

My dad agreed to drop me off at the McKnight home for the customary pictures and Nancy’s dad was to drive from there. My parents and sister tried to help me learn manners around girls and how to dance, which I had no intention of doing, but for Nancy’s sake I tried. I thought I was ready, I wasn’t even close.

The minute I got to the McKnight house I held a corsage of red orchids in my shaky hands and tried to hand them over to Nancy. Her mom informed me I had to pin them on, seriously, near her breasts, in front of the entire family. I thought I’d pee myself, pass out or pin the corsage right into her skin. No one had prepared me for this, thanks family. It’s a tricky maneuver that not one of my many, many sports coaches had ever coached in practice. For me it was a surgical procedure and I didn’t even like pulling off a bandaid. They may of gotten the idea for the entire Mission Impossible shows from this.

Her entire family watched me struggle, sweat beading down my brow, I hadn’t sweated like this playing both ways and special teams but this was for real. I finally accomplished my feat, with help of course from her mom, and my smile in the family pictures was huge, I thought the worst was over. I didn’t know a soul at the dance, you could of set me down in Mars and I’d of found something to talk about, but here, at an all girls school, I was lost.

I finally got the nerve to ask Nancy to dance, and I only stomped on her feet a few times, so I called that a victory and I thought I was very light on her feet, no blood, no crying, I had this in control. I recognized a few friends later in they were standing in the corner as far away from the dance floor as they could get, so naturally I excused myself and hung with them for a few minutes. The old man had told me it was rude to leave your date and Nancy was always cool to me, so I made my way back to the table fairly swiftly.

Only two scary things remained, the slow dance, where I would actually have to touch her again, and Nancy was good looking, but first times are always scary, and then walking her to her door. My dad was picking us up so I did rather well in the dance, but when I walked her to the door I froze, like a mud hen on a freezing lake. I might of shook her hand, I have piled that memory so deep it would take decades to find it, and I don’t believe I ever saw her again.

And that was the first of many, and the first always stands out. I may even have that picture from that night somewhere, but I’m sure I buried it as deep as not kissing her goodnight. We all learn at our own pace, what’s important to some doesn’t mean the person next to you will get it and I learned that night,, and continue to this day, learning, not going to homecomings.

Crack Egg Out