“What was I thinking letting you talk me into those clothes?” I said as we both got into my car. “I’m returning them tomorrow.”
“No ma, don’t. You look good in them.”
“Still, they’re too young for me.”
“If you return them, forget going out.” He sat in the passenger seat mopping. I couldn’t believe it, but he was hurt to think that I’d return the clothes.
“Well I hope I don’t see anyone I know that night.”
“You might, but they won’t recognize you.”
And I knew in my heart of hearts, he was right.
It was in college that my luck, and my life, completely turned around. It’s not that I was popular, but my roommate was. When Babs and I met the first day at Ohio State, I assumed that she would immediately start looking for a new roommate. My first impression being that we had nothing in common.
She was pretty and popular, and like I said I was a nerd, but she turned out to be entirely different from what I first perceived, and not the shallow and vacuous sorority girl I took her for.
We hit it off immediately, and though I never became popular with the boys, her girlfriends were a different story. Like her, they took me in and made me part of a group. Something I never had as a teenage girl.
They taught me a little about subjects that before college I was never interested in, and that was dancing and clothes. I can’t say that I became a fashion plate, but at least my clothes fit. And I can surprise people when I get on the dance floor.
“Where are you taking me Saturday night? He asked as I drove him to work a few days later. We had agreed to go out the next Saturday night, because his birthday had passed, and he had already gotten drunk and disgusting with his friends.
“I don’t know. Anywhere you want to go.”
“Anywhere?”
“Yeah, sure, anywhere,” I said naively.
“Okay, sounds good.”
“So where are we going?”
“I’ve got a couple of places in mind. You like to dance?”
“You want to go out dancing with me?” I gave him a look of sheer amazement.
“First a few drinks at a place where I know the bartenders, and then maybe, yeah.”
“Okay.” I mean, what else could I say?
“Should be interesting.”
“What?”
“Seeing if you can shake that thing.”
“Oh I can shake it. Don’t worry about that. Your mom was known for shaking it.”
This all sounded too good to be true, as if I was in a dream. First I was going to a bar with my twenty-one year old son, and then we were going dancing. I mean, I was in heaven, but in retrospect, what was I thinking?
“Oh, and you’ve got to rent a limo, mom.”
“What?”
“We can’t drink and drive.”
“Oh, I know, but a limo? Sounds expensive. And besides, I’m not drinking that much.”
“Oh, just get dad to pay for it. You know he will.”
He was right. When it came to his kids, my ex spared no expense. I could rot in hell, but nothing was too good for his kids. Our daughter was in Europe at the time and it was all paid for as a graduation gift from Daddy.
“Oh and mom, I’ll hit him up for some extra money. I’ll tell him I need tires for my car or it won’t pass inspection.”
“Do you need tires on your car?”