Thanks Tulip and Em Es
Thanks for the replies to the thread... both of you Em Es, it’s always good to hear from you. It’s a bit late here, and I’m operating on minimal sleep, but I’ll try to put this on paper.
The first experience is one that I’m writing about as we speak – and it may be hard to accurately summarize it in a few paragraphs. I was in college, and I became acquainted with a pretty sorority girl – Monica. We met through a community service organization on campus, and we shared some memorable experiences before she graduated.
Halfway through the semester, I decided to impress Monica with a private dinner. I never really thought I stood a chance with this girl, and this wasn’t exactly a date, but you get the idea.
I reserved the old campus auditorium, which was essentially retired at that point. It could seat 300 people, boasted a good sound-system, and was available to student organizations for free.
My schedule was light that day, and I showed up two hours early to decorate. The theatre department used to conduct plays in this room, and I thought the stage would be the perfect place for our meal. I spent an hour setting the table and decking it out with flowers and candles.
When Monica arrived she was very impressed, and we dined for more than an hour while sharing a wonderful conversation. She’d already figured out that I had a major crush on her, and she decided to confront me. In the minutes that followed, I started rattling off a list of everything I liked about her… including her feet.
Monica was surprisingly tolerant as I removed her shoes and thoroughly tickled each of her feet. The technique I used was similar to that “Sensitivity Testing” method that someone else posted here several weeks ago. This must have gone on for more than fifteen minutes, during which the local radio station was playing a retro set of Madonna tunes.
Last week, I was driving across town when a popular radio station played a triple-set of Madonna tunes, and all of this came flooding back to me unexpectedly. Fortunately, I didn’t crash into anyone or wreck my car… although I easily could have (and the full-length version of this experience will make considerably more sense).
Another memory that’s weighed on my thoughts of late involves my cousin Kate. This one occurred during one of the lowest points of my high school days.
Several of my friends abruptly moved away, and the atmosphere at the school had become essentially toxic. Culturally, intellectually, and otherwise, I simply didn’t belong there (I more or less stood out like a tailor in a nudist camp). It really was an awful experience.
My parents were eternal optimists, and they truly believed things would start going better for me if I simply got out more. There was a school dance on a beautiful Friday night in April, and they stopped just short of ordering me to go.
The dance unfolded essentially as I expected. My remaining friends had the good sense not to attend. Every elitist clique in the school was well represented, and I felt hopelessly out of place. One bright spot, however, was the DJ. He had excellent taste in music, and he’d also brought along one of those fog machines and a really cool lighting set.
The entire gym floor was shrouded in fog and soft blue lights. Under any other circumstances and with a different group of people, this would have been really cool. Unfortunately, the atmosphere couldn’t make up for the arrogant jocks, snooty rich kids, and other undesirables who’d taken up residence on the dance floor. I stood off to the side, trying to decide how long I should stick around.
An hour went by, and the DJ announced he was doing a set of slow songs, including some 80’s tunes (he called them “old-school”). I couldn’t have felt more alone.
I’d just about had enough when a beautiful young woman entered the gym and made her way through the fog. It was Kate. I later learned that she’d been talking to my parents about the problems I was having at school, and she took it upon herself to surprise me at the dance.
Kate boldly pushed her way past most of the school football team and several of my wealthiest classmates. She took my hand and escorted me to center court as the DJ was beginning to play “True” by Spandeau Vallet.
None of those kids had any idea that Kate was my cousin, and their jaws hit the floor as we danced at center court. I was deeply touched by my cousin’s gesture, and I’ll admit that I was also savoring the shocked expressions of my boorish classmates.
When the song ended, Kate escorted me from the building and took me to one of our favorite local hangouts for the remainder of the evening. There was tickle play, but it’s not the most relevant part of that incident… at least not for me.
Three days ago, I was once again driving my car in the countryside, and the song “True” came on the radio. That memory suddenly resurfaced, and I nearly drove my car into a cornfield, all the while sporting a dazed smile.
At the risk of offending any deeply spiritual members of our forum, I also had a number of wonderful Easter experiences in years past (several with Kate, and another with a different college girl). Local churches here are gearing up for Easter, and the sight of their yard decorations has been brining back some wonderful memories.
I’m exceedingly tired (it’s after midnight here), and I don’t feel terribly articulate at the moment. Hopefully you’ve been able to follow what I've written, and perhaps you can relate. Regardless, I’m glad to hear others are experiencing this phenomenon. There really must be something about spring -- maybe it's a chemical thing.
