Boys

For someone who read as much as I did, I was a pretty naive little girl.  My experience came from books, not life.  I knew what it was like for famous Belgium detectives to hunt down murderers in England, I understood the clandestine work of Allied spies during WWII, I was familiar with famous and fictional heros and heroins through all ages of history and all over the world, but in my own world I was uncomfortable talking to boys and could never think of a thing to say.  Weird.

Perhaps it was because I idolized Keith so much that I avoided being around boys.  I didn't want to embarrass him by being an annoying little sister, so I left him alone.  He always had a group of guys he was hanging out with, but I never dreamed of being a part of them. 

The girls my age were divided into two groups; the popular ones with lots of boy friends, and the other bunch.  I was on the fringe of the second group.  Often I would do my own thing and not even be with a group, but at school and church I hung around the girls who didn't have boy friends.  They were nice, we had fun, but I didn't learn how to talk to boys.

There were boys around me, of course.  I sat next to them at school, even walked across the street to seminary with them, but I just smiled and kept to myself.  I had no idea how to make small talk.  Anyway, those were the boys who were just as shy as I was, so they didn't initiate conversations either.  The most I ever said to them was "hi", or "have a good weekend."

I did go to Teen Elect when I was a young teenager, but that was a painful experience.  We were supposed to learn how to have good manners when we went out to dinner or dances, but mostly I learned that it was totally embarrassing to eat in front of people, and where in the heck is a boy supposed to put his hand when you dance with him?  Awkward!

We had Saturday night church dances one a month, but I avoided them like the plague.  A group of girls talked me into going to one New Year's Eve dance, but I couldn't see the appeal of standing against the wall watching other people dance, then running for the bathroom if any of your group saw a possible dance partner begin sauntering towards us.  To me, hiding with a bunch of giggling, simpering, gossiping girls was a poor way to spend a New Year's Eve.  I'd rather be home babysitting or reading a good book.

Anyway, I didn't put myself out, so I didn't get asked out on dates or learn how to talk to guys.  I hid.  There were bunches of boys I noticed, the cute popular ones, who were really very friendly and I'm sure would have been totally nice to me if I had ever had the opportunity to talk with them, but that didn't happened.  I wasn't involved in sports, drama, or any of the clubs of extra-curricular activities at school.  My fault, I know, but I was too shy to want to be do those things.  The other nice, regular boys hung out in their groups just like the girls hung out in our groups, and when we did do things together I made excuses to avoid them.  Pretty dumb, but there you are.  Put simply, I was afraid of boys.

There was one young man, though, who began catching my eye.  His name was Gene.  He was a year ahead of me in school, so he graduated the same time Keith did.  Gene was in our ward in Church, and he lived in our neighborhood, a couple of streets down from us.  He was sure cute!  He wasn't popular popular, and he didn't pal around with Keith and his buddies, so I didn't really see him a lot, but in his quiet way, he attracted my attention.  He was just a nice guy.

I certainly didn't think Gene knew who I was.  After all, we weren't in the same Sunday School class, we had never been in the same classes at high school, there was no reason for him to even know my name, but I guess he did.  One Sunday after church I was walking down the sidewalk towards our car when Gene walked up to me and said "Hi."

I kind of just stared at him, I guess.  It was pretty surprising.  I was carrying an armload of visual aids and stuff I had used to lead the singing in Junior Sunday School.  I was the chorister at the time.  I had made a doll out of a lamp by drawing a face on a light bulb and decorating the lamp to look like a little girl.  I told the kids if they sang really good they could make the little girl light up, and it really caught their attention and motivated them to do their best.  Anyway, the lamp was awkward to carry, and I didn't want to drop it or the other pictures and books I was carrying, so I got flustered when Gene started talking to me.

He looked a little embarrassed himself, and kind of unsure, but he pressed on and asked, "Hey, Gale.  Do you want to go to the Fireside tonight?"

I had vaguely heard about a big youth activity that was planned for that evening, but had put it out of my mind without even thinking about it since I had an excuse not to go.  We had family in from out of town and they would all be meeting at Grandma Johnson's. 

I was flustered and embarrassed and worried that I might drop my load of stuff, so without even thinking about what was happening I blurted out, "Oh, I'm sorry, I can't go.  I have to go to a family reunion tonight."

Gene mumbled something about it being OK, and maybe some other time, then turned and hurried off.  I almost ran to the car, dumped my load in the trunk, and climbed in to the safety of being with my family.  It wasn't until we were driving home that it finally occurred to me that Gene had just asked me out on a date, and I had turned him down!  I was so dumb!!!!!!

Of course, I was also really relieved that I didn't have to be nervous all afternoon worrying about what I would wear, what I would say to him, or making a fool of myself while we were together, but Darn!  Why did I have to be so naive?