Me: Oh! Oh, Mark! We should go roller skating!
Mark: Uh -- WHY would we ever do that?
Me: Because maybe, just maybe, they'll have a guy's choice, couples-only skate, and you can pick me, making up for decades of deep-rooted insecurity.
Mark: What are you talking about?
Me: When I was a middle school teen, my friends and I spent our Friday nights at Skateway USA. They always had a "guy's choice" skate toward the end of the evening. The girls would gather on one end of the rink; the boys on the other. Suddenly, the lights would dim, and an REO Speedwagon ballad would pump through the speakers, filling my heart with hope. It was magic.
Me: As "I can't fight this feeling any longer..." reverberated through Skateway, the guys began skating to the opposite end of the rink to choose girls to skate with them. I would maneuver myself into a position near the front -- so hopeful in my best J.C. Penney Hunt Club sweater. My eyes said, "Pick me. Pick me. Pick me."
But no. I was never picked for a couples-only skate. Not once. My friends would get picked over and over again, while I was left standing alone every Friday night. Rejected, I would head over to the concession stand and ask the staff to mix me up a suicide drink, with a double shot of Kick soda. You know, I could skate backwards and everything! I never understood why no guy ever picked me.
Mark: Oh, honey [reaching for my hand]. Sweetie, let me explain this to you. No guys picked you back then because you looked just like Ralph Macchio.
Me: Thanks for being super sensitive about this.
(But he maybe has a point.)
|I'm in the blue Hunt Club, while my twin brother, Daniel-san, sports plaid.|