I want to write about my experience in my first school dance. Y'see, I was kind of duped into it.


In elementary, we seemed to have numerous themed dances throughout the year. I dodged them all. We'd get flyers for Noche Tropical which I could only assume was when all the boys would wear Hawaiian t-shirts and get down to Men at Work or something. There was also Sock Hops where the girls would come to school dressed in neat looking Poodle dresses. I kind of regretted not attending the Sock Hops after first seeing Back to the Future. My repressed James Dean lives on. The point being, I always had a fear of dancing.


Hit the FF button on the ol' RCA and I'm an awkwardly budding 7th grader. It's was late May and with summer vacation around the corner I walked with my friends to the gym for PE, the last class of the day. There was a girl standing sentry over the door, I thought it was a little odd but proceeded into the gym. The darkness was the first signal that sent off the alarm-o-tron in my head, the next might have been the DJ setting up on the stage normally reserved for talent shows and plays. Once my eyes acclimated to the darkness I noticed pockets of kids scattered around and one of my teachers tying balloons off. I went over and asked what was going on. "We're having an end of the year dance for the 7th and 8th graders!"  It took about 3 Vulcan lifespans for the words to stop reverberating in my head. Once I recollected myself enough to move my legs I let my survival instincts take over and the next thing I knew I was heading towards the boy's restroom.



Crap. Apparently those meddling kids on student council thought it would be fun to throw a surprise dance during school hours. There was no escape. Volunteer parents guarded all the exits. I sat in a stall and pulled out some middle school contraband in the form of a Game Boy. It was more of a physical diversion for my shaking hands as my mind pondered the horrors lying just beyond the bathroom door. I could hear the rising murmur of voices outside as more people crowded in. Around the time I was probing the ceiling for vent shafts that would accommodate an eighty pound twelve year old, I heard the door bust open and raucous voices of my friends. Playing cool, I flushed the toilet and went to wash my hands just as they noticed me. I had to play it cool. If they sensed even the remotest sense of anxiety I was done for. They seemed pretty excited and gabbled about the salacious preteen drama unfolding on the dance floor.



After a few more minutes we exited my sanctuary of plumbing and were back in the dark gym. That was one thing I had going for me. The darkness concealed things. The nervous convulsions I experienced as I walked may have been mistaken for a well executed truffle shuffle. I surveyed my environment to assess the dangers. The DJ was testing the sound and the music would begin at any moment. I gathered with a group of my buddies and we discussed pertinent matters, namely, the girls. Despite my social issues with parties, I was rather flirty with the ladies. One in particular, Lilly Sorenson (Names may have been changed to protect identities) who had the title of prettiest girl in the class. I knew she liked me, but not to what extent. And my answer to that came very shortly.


In middle school, there was a complex parley system. You like a girl? You don't tell her directly, you have your friend tell her friend to tell her. As me and my fellow wallflowers set the mood, two emissaries walked over and told us that Lilly wanted to dance....with me. I never danced a step in my life, and now my dream girl wanted to cut the rug. Everyone must have sensed my reluctance and I could feel the goading coming on, so I had to contain the situation. After several minutes of tense negotiations, we came up with terms; I'd dance with Lilly when the next slow song came on. I figured slow dancing was a lot easier than the fast stuff and I was less liable to botch things up.


Now this was the 90s so I'll leave it to your keenly whetted pop culture knowledge to ascertain the musical selections. My stomach felt like Mt. Vesuvius and my boxers must have been Pompeii as I listened to the current pop song ending, dreading a slow love ballad. A Pepto Bismolic wave of relief came over me as the next song came on, I never thought I'd be so glad to hear Ice Ice Baby. I watched my friend Greg dancing with a girl without a hint of fear. He was executing a brilliant Pulp Fiction hand across eye salute and then transitioning into a Michael Jackson leg-kick-crotch-grab. How could I compete with that?! I think the anticipation was too much for my classmates and I saw 2 kids approach the DJ. After Vanilla was done waxing chumps like candles, Whitney's melodious voice came on and provided the soundtrack to my encounter with destiny.


I slowly approached Lilly's group. The blockade of girls surrounding her parted and allowed me entrance. Lilly was looking positively gorgeous which only compounded my hysteria. I said something very 7th graderish and tentatively placed my hands on her hips the way John McClane might when diffusing intricately designed explosives. I wasn't ready for what happened next. Lilly leaned in and whispered into my ear, "Come closer", and with her arms around my neck brought me into a tight embrace. Being on the precipice of puberty, I couldn't help but become aware of the feelings we talked about in Sex Ed and the sensations that would come to dominate a boy's life for the next ten years. Lilly and I were locked together, gently swaying from side to side as Houston's vocals serenaded the gym. I looked and saw all of my friends had joined in and were dancing with the other girls. Lilly smelled wonderful and she had her chin snug against my shoulder. We were both in a trance it seemed, contently lost in adolescence. I knew the song had to end and when it did we reluctantly separated. I was swiftly whisked away by my friends who wanted to know the play by play.


Still basking in the glow of my Penguin Waltz with Lilly, I settled with a group of friends and observed the dance. I did my part and wanted to relax and savor the emotions coursing through me. I didn't even realize it until it was too late. Two annoying girls from my class dragged me back on the dance area during a high octane hip hop song. One was behind me and the other in front. They then proceeded to "grind" on me. I was frantic, I didn't know what to do. After about 30 seconds of being violated by Salt n' Pepa I just couldn't take it anymore and literally stepped over the girl in front of me as she carried out her hoochie dip.


I lost myself in the crowd and kept a wary eye out. The rest of the dance went without much fanfare and finally ended. Although the horrid experience with the dancing gang bang put a sour note on things, my dance with Lilly was still overpowering my head. It would be a memory I'd revisit many times over the summer. Looking back I wish I'd attended more of the school functions and didn't worry so much. Thanks for reading and remember to always keep it Foot Loose!