Thanks go to Tess Kincaid who organises and hosts this meme J To read more Magpies please click here.
Image copyright Tess Kincaid
We always went dancing at the weekends, twisting the night away in our twirly, swirly dresses and our high-heeled shoes. The knowing bold-eyed girls soon attracted the best-looking boys while my friends and I pretended not to care and danced together, glancing surreptitiously around at intervals to see if any presentable young men had arrived.
I always hoped I’d meet someone though I hardly ever did until the last dance was announced when every drunken loser in the place felt driven to acquire a partner to lead sweatily round the room. The youths, lanky, spotty, ill-coordinated, often smelling of vomit, thought it a point of honour that they should find a girl for the end of the evening.
If the girl was as desperate as the boy she might allow him to walk her home and, if he were lucky, and she not discerning, have a quick fumble and snog or even more in the deep shadows under trees or behind sheds. Marriages are not made in heaven but in the booze-fuelled dance halls of desperate adolescence or rather, at the end of the proverbial shotgun after such rash and sordid couplings. I always walked home alone.
One Saturday night, as we pirouetted and flounced to show off our nascent charms, my friend spun towards me and shouted in my ear, ‘Have you seen that bloke over there - the one with the black shirt and white tie? He’s gorgeous. He’s giving you the eye.’
I laughed dismissively but deep down I was flattered. At last someone had recognised my allure. I manoeuvred myself so that I could see him. She was right. I could hardly believe my luck as he sauntered towards me. I trembled and blushed and hoped my voice would work when he spoke to me.
He stretched out his hand towards me and smiled. What a wonderful smile! I reached towards him and he dropped something cold and smooth into my palm. My friend giggled and said, ‘I told you he was giving you the eye.’ I looked down and saw an eye looking back at me. I screamed and dropped it and my friend shrieked with laughter. Tucking her hand into the youth’s arm, they walked off together. Over her shoulder she said, ‘See you later, loser.’
I never went dancing again after that night and I have been wary of friendship ever since.
I have to say Wow. You painted a clear picture of the events as though I was there watching. Great write. :)
ReplyDeleteYes you did paint a very clear and vivid picture of a different time. I could see it all as I was reading. Very well done - and with friends like that one certainly doesn't need any enemies!
ReplyDeleteOh my ! what a story ! The first time I saw a glass eye was when I was about 10, I spent the night at a friend's place and when I went to the bathroom very early morning there was an eye looking at me in a glass ! It was her father's eye, he had lost one during the war. At that time I found it not even strange, rather funny, an eye in a glass looking at me ! Innocence ...
ReplyDeleteWhat a fantastic story! Girls are the most awful creatures!
ReplyDeleteNot a nice experience, but very well told.
ReplyDeleteI agree with Lolamouse!
ReplyDeletePerhaps you should have asked for the other one and scooped one out of that girl's socket.. (vengeful..?) Would have served her only right!
C'mon.. go back to that dance and declare that the guy was a loser since he tricked with a stone eye.. if he were a man enough- let him scoop it in real!
Sending you hugs.. xoxox
Thanks for the giggles. I wasn't expecting the end. Wonderful story.
ReplyDeleteI'm with Tess. I did not expect that ending.
ReplyDeleteYou really painted the scene well. I was there, right along with you.
Being an American, I was charmed by "snog" and "bloke."
I hope you gave him - and her - the evil eye in return.
ReplyDeletePeople suck, sometimes. This was a terrific read.
ReplyDeleteooh i hope that is fiction
ReplyDeletewhat a friend!
OMG! How evil ... it's time for you to dance again.
ReplyDeleteOh, that's funny and awful, and I hope fictitious! But, if not it't true, bad experiences make good stories. ;-)
ReplyDeleteGreat story. That poor girl, I felt like I was back in high school at the Friday night dance :(
ReplyDeleteack. hope this is fiction
ReplyDeletewhat a friend!
What a terrible story. And I say that with admiration. It made my blod run cold.
ReplyDeleteFabulous! please stop by...xxxj
ReplyDeleteGreat story, what an ending! Gross as the kids say. Loved your writing.
ReplyDeleteI love how this very well-written story builds tension right from the beginning to the surprise ending. Great take on the prompt!
ReplyDeleteI can remember those days - hoping and hoping that some young man could see your true potential.
ReplyDeleteWhen we'd caught our catch - I think we did forget our friends a little.
Yet, I hope your excellent write was fiction - who needs friends like that?
Anna :o]
Thank you all for your comments. This story is entirely fictional although I used to go dancing at weekends.
ReplyDeleteVividly told. I, too, would be seeking a touch of vengeance. :) Glad to hear it was fiction, but I'll bet somewhere is a girl for whom it is the truth.
ReplyDeleteThis was a professional well-written story. I loved it! I can actually relate to being humiliated a school dance kids can be so mean.
ReplyDelete