You Can't Always Get What You Want (Part 1)

We moved around the schoolyard like a pack of wolves. Wherever the alpha female wanted to go is where we would follow.

Sometimes the leader would go up to a boy that we all had a mad crush on and tell him that I thought he was cute. It was then up to 14-year-old me to talk my way out of the awkward situation.

I am now grateful for the unexpected training in improvisation, but back then I thought it was a cruel kind of initiation.

Most world religions have a ritualistic ceremony designed to inculcate and indoctrinate that exploits our natural desire to belong to the tribe. And I desperately wanted to be part of that tight-knit circle.

This was junior school at a large Catholic co-educational college, not a cult. The particular ring leader in my little cohort of mostly uncool girly swots was fiery, red-headed Debbie Cunningham.

Did she do it for masochistic fun?
Maybe. It was the mid-1980s in Frankston and our entertainment options were limited to hanging out at the beach, indoor roller skating, the Village cinema, and tenpin bowling.
In the days before mobile phones, the Internet and Netflix we had to make our own fun.

Was it to test my loyalty?
Quite possibly. My fear of boredom was greater than my fear of embarrassment.
Luckily I had a quick mind, a quirky sense of humour, and a vivid imagination that was fuelled by my curiosity.

Whatever her motivation the result was that the challenges forced me to be creative.
Humour became my weapon of self-defense. Being an introvert was not an option.

Despite, or because of, the tricky and hilarious situations she got us into, Debbie was one of my besties. She was so much fun to be around and her house was a short walk away from mine and on the way to the beach.

Debbie was constantly getting in trouble for smoking.

She was the first of our group to have cleavage.
She was the Frankie Goes to Hollywood's Relax (don't do it) in stark contrast to our Cyndi Lauper's Girls Just Want to Have Fun.
She was the one who came up with elaborate plans to bust me out of the overprotective grasp of my Italian parents so we could go to the 21st Century Dance Club.

Fun times!

 

#creativity #nostalgia #friends #cheaperthantherapy