Thank you everyone for your support and comments related to yesterday's post.
Sadly, I have a confession. I lied in the previous post. I stated that I never cursed in high school. That is not true. I apologize.
I am a bit dumb-founded that I forgot the graduation incident. To this day I chalk up my come-back line to being a classic, one of the best I have ever delivered.
Let's go back 20 years ago to the bowels of a old catholic high school cafeteria. Names have been changed to protect the identity of those involved.
I never really dated through high school. Perhaps I was too busy playing sports, doing extra-curricular activities, or perhaps it was due to the fact that my father taught in my high school. I remember one day getting the nerve up to ask Italian Soccer Player Extra-Ordinaire out. His response was, " You are really nice and all, but heck, I want to pass Geography". Or perhaps my lack of dates grew from my slight naivety and prudence. In grade 10 I was very good friends with a fellow jock. We sat on the bus together every day chatting, laughing and hanging out. Then one day, on the way home from school a discussion around a recent religion class ended our friendship. Hockey Player Extra-Ordinaire basically laughed about how Mrs. Merotta condemned premarital sex. This best-bud of mine straight out asked why I did not find the discussion hilarious and stupid. I innocently replied, "Well, she has a point, premarital sex is not right and it is against our religion, I plan to wait till I get married, like you should". That was the last time we sat together on the bus.
OK. I digress. Back to the graduation swearing incident.
All through high school I was good friends with Nice-Guy-Next-Door. We studied together. Hung out. Had lots of fun. Many of my fondest high school memories are just hanging out with Nice-Guy-Next-Door. As graduation approached we discussed grad-dates. We decided that it only made sense to go together. We were all set for lots of fun. We would double date with another couple.
In honour of the occasion, my parents promised me use of the vintage Mustang convertible that my mom owned. I remember telling Nice-Guy-Next-Door the arrangements. We are pretty excited.
Then, just two days before graduation and the big party, Nice-Guy-Next-Door announces that his buddy's father got them a awesome Porsche to ride in to the dinner. And, perhaps the girls could come in the convertible and the guys could come in the Porsche. I guess his philosophy was that we were all friends and that the big party was not really a date.
Well. I was furious. I had been really looking forward to going to the hall together. I guess I was hoping that in my fancy dress and make-up he would see me differently. Not as just a friend, maybe more than just a friend.
All I remember was taking a big step to be very close to Nice-Guy-Next-Door. I glanced at his buddy, and then looked him straight in the eyes and loudly proclaimed, " Well, Nice-Guy-Next-Door, all I can say is 'You can't f*ck a f*cking Porsche'"....turned, walked away, head high, until I heard the principle's voice calling me by my surname!
So, there you have it. Yes, I did swear in high school. But boy, was the look on his face priceless!