Dance

This is my picture for Illustration Friday; the theme is dance. "Dance" was drawn with my gel roller on the back of a flyer for the radio show I'm doing tonight.

The first school dance I ever went to was the Sadie Hawkins dance at my Jr. High. I went with my two best friends Eric and Jeff. Eric was a tall math nerd with a serious acne problem and Jeff was the fattest, funniest kid I've ever known. Around school we were known as team dork. (I know it’s hard to believe I was ever so un-cool.)

We decided, as a group to go to the Sadie Hawkins dance thinking our odds of actually dancing would be better because it was up to the girls to select a dance partner. That plan didn't work very well. The three of us were wallflowers all night.

Near the end of the evening, while we waited in line for some refreshments, someone pinched my ass. I couldn't believe it.

"Guys, guys, some girl just pinched my ass!" I whispered excitedly to team dork.

"Well who was it?" asked Jeff

"I don't know. Lets sneak a peek behind us and see if we can figure out who it is." I answered barley able to contain my giddiness.

The three of us tried casually looking around but between the floating dots of light from the mirrored ball, the dimness of the gym and the large crowd of pimple faced teenagers it was impossible to tell who had reached out and touched me.

Disappointed, our focus returned to the line we were in and then it happened again.

"Guys, guys it happened again! Did you see anyone?" I screamed out over the sounds of Captain and Tennille.

"I didn't see anyone." Said Eric in disbelief.

"Yeah, you're just messing with us." Quipped Jeff.

"No guys. I swear it happened." I pleaded.

"Well." Jeff said, "If it happens again say 'Gotcha!' really loud and we'll all turn around together."

Then the three of us tried to act casual. A few minutes later my ass was once again pinched. "Gotcha!" I screamed turning quickly as possible with an enormous grin on my face. Suddenly, there I was face to face with Scott Huffaker, the track star of my Jr. High School.

Scott also had an enormous grin on his face, which turned rapidly to horror and then anger when he realized it was a male butt he had been pinching. My own happy grin turned to pain after Scott punched me in the stomach. "You're a big fag." He said.

"What does that make you then?" Asked Jeff. "You're the boy pinching a fags ass."

"Shut up you fat fag." Replied Scott while punching Jeff in the stomach. Then he punched me again, then he hit Eric saying, "That's for hanging out with fags." Then he walked away.

Team dork didn't attend another dance until the twelfth grade and by then I was the only member. Eric had moved to California with his Mom and Jeff became a drunken stoner.

I ran into Scott Huffaker some years later. He was working the graveyard shift at a 7-11. I must have surprised him when I walked in because he quickly tried to hide the porn magazine he had been looking at by sticking it partially under a newspaper. He didn't recognize me but I knew who he was. He looked unhappy and nervous and weighed about 350lbs. I also noticed as I was leaving that the skin mag he was looking at was a gay porn magazine. I wish I could feel good about the irony of this situation but I just feel bad for Scott.

Do you like wallflowers? Do you want to leave me some love?