Some Enchanted Evening

How about some lyrics to start? They'll make sense later.

Some enchanted evening
You may see a stranger,
you may see a stranger
Across a crowded room.
And somehow you know,
You know even then
That somewhere you'll see her
Again and again.

This week Misty and I will celebrate our 15^th anniversary. 15 years ago today, (Wednesday, March 15^th) I was likely studying for or taking a final exam at Auburn University. Winter Quarter was coming to an end. Spring break was approaching.

5 years ago I spent the week of our 10^th anniversary telling a few stories from our romantic (and not so romantic) past. This week, I think I’ll do the same. As a matter of fact, I think I’ll re-tell a couple of those stories. Only this time I’ll use many more words and much more embellishment.

As I look back I realize our story revolves around spring. Many milestone occurrences in our relationship came in March, April, and May. We’ll start in the spring of 1987. Yes, that’s right, 1987.

Every spring Forest Hills School celebrated Spring Fling week. Spring Fling activities included a pageant, various parties, and, most importantly, a dance. The Spring Fling Dance was one of two dances Forest Hills held for its junior high students.

The spring of 1987 marked the end of my 7^th grade year. 1987’s Spring Fling Dance was my second opportunity to attend a school dance. After the events of my first dance, I was not enamored with the thought of attending another. Eventually, though I don’t remember why, I changed my mind and attended the dance.

The dance progressed exactly as you would expect a junior high dance to progress. 6 or 7 couples danced while the rest of the attendees acted as spectators. Boys on one side of the school’s gym and the girls on the other.

My second school dance was much less eventful than my first. It was, though, much more significant.

As the dance neared its end, the DJ announced he would play one last slow dance. Moments later a girl approached me.

“Hey, Scott.”

My mind began to race. “What does she want? I don’t want to dance. I definitely don’t want to dance with her. Maybe I can ignore her. It is really loud in here. After all.”

I decided to use the “It’s-too-loud-and-I-didn’t-hear-you” tactic. I turned to walk away. I felt a hand on my arm. She was much faster than I’d anticipated. For such a little girl, she had quite a grip. She spun me around and spoke.

“Will you ask my friend to dance?”

“I don’t dance.”

“Please? She hasn’t danced at all tonight.”

“Neither have I.”

“Please?”

“Who is it?”

“Misty Rawdon.”

I knew the name, but couldn’t put a face with the name. Apparently my face gave away the mental picture search taking place in my head. She elbowed me in the gut and pointed.

I followed her arm past her index finger finally finding her target.

The room stood still. The music went silent. It was as if a light from heaven shined down onto this beautiful girl across the…

I can’t do it. Nothing like that happened. I didn’t even perceive it happening. I looked. I saw her standing there. (That would make a good song.) My actual thought was, “Hmm, she’s cute.”

This tossed me into quite a conundrum.

As an adolescent (and as an adult really) I had two issues. Both of them were at play here. And they were at odds with one another.

My first issue: I had no self-confidence at all. None. I could barely talk to a girl; much less actually ask one to dance. Actually, I spent most of my adolescence specifically avoiding such situations.

Issue #2: I cannot say no. I’m better now, but not much. I like to avoid confrontation. If you tell someone no, you cause confrontation. That is not the same as avoiding. Hence, I rarely say no. (Except when drugs are involved, of course. Then, I just say no!)

I looked back at my friend. Two thoughts were screaming through my head. Two conflicting thoughts. 1) “You’re not going to ask her to dance!” 2) “You’re not going to tell this girl no!”

One thought eventually had to win over the other. I had to determine which issue was more difficult to overcome and choose the other solution. Ask Misty to dance or tell my friend no? As typically happens in such a situation, the more difficult issue to overcome is the immediate issue.

I said yes.

“Ok, sure. I’ll ask her to dance.”

My friend bounded happily to the other side of the gym. I stood there in shock, contemplating my next move. Now I had to deal with issue number 2. I just promised to ask a girl to dance.

Now the room did go dark and silent. My heart began to race. Sweat began to bead on my forehead. My hands grew cold and moist.

At that moment I knew what I had to do. I had to put my fears aside, walk confidently over to this girl, and ask her to dance. I knew what I had to do.

Knowing and doing are two completely different things.

After several moments I stood frozen to the same spot of hardwood gym floor I’d stood on when I promised to ask for a dance. My brain had sprung back to life, at war with itself once again.

“You promised! You’ve never danced with a girl before! She probably knows you’re supposed to ask her. She’ll say no anyway. But you promised! But she’s a girl!”

At that moment I decided to do what most junior high boys would do in my situation. Hide and lie!

I spent the last 15 minutes of the dance hiding. In the bathroom. On the perimeter of the dance floor. Outside the gym. Anywhere I thought girls would not be found, I hid there.

Finally my mom came and picked me up. The hiding phase of the plan was successful. I knew I would have to face my friend on Monday. That’s when the lying would come into play. I spent the weekend coming up with an excuse or two.

Mostly, I was just relieved that I did not have to face the horror of the two possible outcomes of my asking a girl to dance. Rejection or actually dancing with a girl. To this day I have not decided which is worse.

Fate would win in the end, but for years I tried my best to derail the efforts. 1987 ended with me on top. Scott 1, Fate 0.