Infatuation hurts, wounds, scars, marks

On one of my other blogs, I was remembering MOR earworms of the 70s and 80s, and it got me thinking about mostly memorable infatuations I have had in the past.

Infatuation No. 1: Debbie (the names have been changed — only somewhat in one case– to protect, well, me): From the moment she walked in the door in second grade, I was enthralled.

Never mind she that she was buck-toothed or had braces. She was…NEW. That’s all I needed to know. All the other girls in my class were “old hat.”

Later, she was the girl with whom I had my first kiss– in the barn. Not as unromantic as it sounds. It wasn’t where the cows were, but above them in the hay mow.

Infatuation No. 2: Kelly: Like Woody in Cheers, I couldn’t stop singing her praises.

I grew up in a small rural school district. In sixth grade, classes from our four elementary schools (grades 1 through 6) joined together for a trip to Washington, D.C. It was here that I first saw her, blonde-haired vixen from another school. And when I say “vixen,” I mean this kind of Vixen (although this was before they even existed) and not this kind.

I was on a bus at the Lincoln Memorial when I first spotted her, talking with a group of girls. It was very patriotic. I still can feel the butterflies I felt then, if I think about it (and when I watch the Fourth of July fireworks from Washington on TV over the Mall/I’m proud to be an American where at least I know I’m free) and when I saw her at our 10th and 15th reunion, I still felt those butterflies, for just a moment.

Infatuation No. 3: Gina: You thought Jeff at View from The Cloud was bad with his infatuation? And uh, I did too until I remembered…

…one summer when I was home from college, working at a convenience store job, I decided to skip going to work and instead go to confess my love to Gina– who lived four hours away! She lived in an old farmhouse near the college and I thought for sure, she was The One.

I didn’t get fired, but I did quit shortly after that. As weird as that was, looking back, I was glad I left the job – no, not that I was creepy like that- but because convenience store jobs suck (apologies to all you convenience store workers out there reading this; I don’t mean to dash your illusions).

Worst part: I think I got there and she wasn’t there. All I remember ironically this song was playing on the radio in her parent’s living room as I left:

It stayed with me for the next four hours– ooh, ooh…

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