First dates can be kind of tricky, especially when you’re both 13 years old — thank god we didn’t know then, all the shit we’d learn later!
Bev and Me
The first date
I ever had
Was with an adorable
Little blonde named
Beverly,
Circa 1964.
Butler JHS Bobcat, public domain, Beverly
She would turn out to be
The prototype of
Every girl I ever married
(all four of them):
Feminine,
Cute, sexy, easy to make laugh,
And easy to charm.
We were 7th graders,
13 years old.
I was smitten.
Butler JHS Bobcat, public domain, ME, 12 going on 9
My parents drove us
To the Lake City Theatre (a cinema)
Where the movie
South Pacific was playing.
Beverly wore a big
Sort of hoop skirt outfit
The likes of which
I’d never seen before.
It may have had a pink poodle
embroidery on it,
but I can’t swear to that detail.
While still adorable,
She looked a little bit
Like somebody’s baby sister from a
19th Century melodrama
About lovely orphans
Seeking ruination.
As luck & fate would have it,
On that very same Friday night
The entire
University of Washington
Varsity football team,
Dressed in jackets and ties
Crew-cut, monolithic figures
Walked in a few minutes after us
And sat in the row
immediately in front of us.
“Bali Hai can you hear me,” my ass
We could hear it,
But we sure couldn’t
See much of it.
I can’t swear to this,
Memory being the kind of
Unreliable beast it so often is,
(Like that pink poodle thing,)
But I think a couple of the
The largest troglodytes glanced back at me
And smirked.
The Monday after our date
At school,
I waited in the hallway
Outside Bev’s classroom
Anxious and excited
For her to come out.
Butler JHS Bobcat, public domain, Ricky Burt, 12 going on 28.
And that’s when Ricky Burt
The toughest, meanest kid
In the 7th grade
Walked up to me
And punched me in the gut-
A sucker punch
That nearly dropped me
To my knees.
“Stay away from Bev” Ricky insisted.
It wasn’t that Ricky wanted Beverly for himself
A buddy of his liked her.
And Ricky enjoyed beating up people.
I quickly realized
That Beverly and I
Were star-crossed,
And that in the interests of my health
And personal survival,
I’d better move along —
Which ultimately led to
My taking Susie Spang instead of Beverly
To The Beatles concert,
In Seattle, some months later.
But that is
a different story.
One with
Another sad ending,
For Susie anyway,
Not at all like and yet
In some strange terrible ways
Just like all the sad endings in life,
Including those of
My first three marriages.
