Just Walking Home From School
When I was in junior high, yes I was once that young, I experienced one of the most embarrassing moments of my life. It left a scar on my poor impressionable mind that has stuck with me over these many, to many for me to want to think about, years. I was at the tender age of fourteen and we all know what a difficult period is in every human being’s life.
The walk to get from my home to school and back was a one way out and one way in type of thing at a certain point. By this I mean somewhere in between my home and my school you had to cross a major road. There was no way to avoid that. Even where you crossed it because of the way the roads were situated in that area unless you wanted to take a really long way around and the walk was long enough without adding to it. Now at this point somewhere the powers that be decided to build an express way that would cross over this major road so everything on both sides of the damn road was torn up. If you didn’t stay on the road itself you were walking in dirt pits and getting home dirty never went over well with our mothers when we were in our school clothes. Back then girls still had to wear dresses and look like proper little ladies. It has always baffled me a little how we could look like proper little ladies when miniskirts were the in fashion but, we were expected to. This was also the time when young ladies graduated from little girl flats to something more grown up like a higher heel. Yeah we looked like proper little ladies. I mean my daughter came out in a dress the other night that would almost give my miniskirts a run their money and I almost told her to go back in and change and she is several years older than I was when this little incident happened. Tell me why the hell our mother’s didn’t tell us to go back in and change back then, wait, it’s because they were all wearing miniskirts. Don’t believe me? Go back and look at pics of your mothers, and if you’re young enough your grandmothers, and if they were under forty during the mid-sixties to early seventies I promise they had at least two of the things in their closets.
Now to really set the scene. After several days of pouring down rain the sun was shining brightly on this beautiful warm late April, yes I can remember the damn month, and all was right with the world. I’ve got my head in the clouds like most girls do at that age, probably thinking about one of the dingy pretty boys of that time hanging on my, and I’m totally oblivious to the world around me. I come to the street.
I at this point take my head out of the clouds and my ass to check the oncoming vehicles to assure my safe crossing of this very busy street. Remember once across I have to walk on the edge of this damn road. Remember the dirt pits I mentioned earlier? Along that road the powers that be have dug up everything to the very edge of the asphalt and there is about a one foot drop off the edge to those frigging dirt pits. This busy road has also been cut down to a two lane street from a four lane. Remember I said it had poured down rain for several days prior to this? Well those dirt pits are now a mud trap that would have stymied the most experienced off-roader, mudslinging, four wheel driver in the most advanced four wheel vehicle of this day and age. No this is not an exaggeration. Scene set. One little added thing or two here, remember my school clothes I mentioned? You can add to the fact I was a little better put together than most girls my age and didn’t look my age. No again not exaggerating just tell it like it was. I’ll get back to this, to what looks like I’m tooting my own horn, later.
I cross the road. No problem, I make it safely across and continue on my merry little way again with my head in the clouds and up my ass oblivious to the world. Do-di-do , do-di-do. I am keeping one eye on the oncoming traffic because I was smart enough to walk up that side so what was on and what was going on on the other side was not important. Not my smartest reasoning I must admit. The next thing I know I hear this loud battle cry and feel this horrific burning pain on the right cheek of my ass. As I jump three feet straight up in the air a convertible is passing me and trying to get back on his side of the road still bellowing out that cry of victory. I remember the man’s face to this day as he turned around to check out his conquered foe. Now of course what goes up must come down right? Well I came down all right but did I land back on the asphalt? Hell no. I landed on the side of the asphalt and sunk damn near to my knees in mud. Now if you think this couldn’t get any worse boy are you wrong.
What goes with road construction? Construction workers of course and there was loads of them. As I struggled to get out of the muddy mess I found myself in I hear all the great big tough guys laughing while the only success I’m having in my predicament is to manage to sink even deeper in the mud. I’m now up to my knees and sinking deeper by the second. One of the laughing clowns realize evidently that I was good and truly stuck and came to pull me out while still laughing. He didn’t expect to walk up on what he did. With tears running down my dewy little cheeks, on my face, I shouted at him it wasn’t funny. It was at this point I think he realized I was a lot younger than I looked and he stopped laughing.
“How old are you honey?” This very large man asked.
I told him my age and I don’t know if he signaled the other men working or what but the laughing all around stopped suddenly. This big mean man wrapped his arms around a very hurt child and told me in a very gentle voice to go on home and get cleaned up and he and the guys were sorry for laughing.
To this day I remember this event in my life with crystal clear clarity. Yes it was traumatic but looking back I have to say that it must have been the funniest thing those dear men had ever seen and I can see why. If I were standing there watching that scene unfold I would be laughing my once burning butt off too.
Back to the well-developed, very curvy, over sized top side of that young, impressionable fourteen year old. Remember ladies those lovely curves and other assets like all thing have to eventually give way to the laws of gravity and end up hitting your knees and or dragging the floor as times passes by. There is a price for everything.
copyright June 2016