I think I'm cursed.
It’s not the type of curse you’d expect, such as I am cursed with unreasonable curly hair, or cursed with a hoarding disease where books are involved. Oh no; nothing ordinary like that. My flavor of curse is like nothing of which I’ve ever heard:
Thankfully, I wasn’t exactly a socialite when it came to dances. In my high school years, I’d gone to exactly two: Homecoming Dance when I was in 9thgrade, and my Senior Prom. (I would have gone to the Junior Prom but the guy who was supposed to take me decided he’d rather go with his male cousin instead. I’ll spare you the story of how I’m always the last to know that they’re gay for another time.)
I learned of the death of my Senior Prom date about 15 years ago while perusing the obituaries (oh shut up; you know you check them, too.) I hadn’t been in contact with him since graduation, our lives having taken two distinctly different paths. He left for a career in the travel industry and I never saw him again.
I mourned his loss privately. He’d never married (do you think I missed the gay clue again?) and I thought about reaching out to his parents. For some reason, they never liked me much. They considered me a bad influence on him (something about a teeny little note I wrote which suggested that he couldn’t go to work because he was too high. Honestly, some parents get uptight over anything.)
The other day, I decided to search for my Homecoming Dance date on Facebook. I’d seen a commercial on TV in which a dejected mop drives past his love interest’s house in a beat up AMC Gremlin. My date, Randy, had the same kind of car and it made me think of him.
Randy didn’t have a lot going for him on the outside. He wasn’t attractive; a raging case of acne gave his face a permanently reddish hue. He drove a Gremlin rather than one of the cool muscle cars of the 1970s. Most unhip of all was the fact that he worked in a slaughterhouse. Even though we lived in the country where the life and death of food was more easily understood and tolerated, Randy’s job didn’t exactly endear him to the girls.
We were both in Marching Band, he as a drummer, and I as a color guard. He was two years older than I. When he asked me to the Homecoming Dance, I almost said no. In my 14-year-old world, he wasn’t the sort of boy I could imagine myself dating. Still, I agreed to go. Even as a teen, I believed that a person’s gifts weren’t always readily apparent and I decided to give him a chance.
Although he’d originally been a mercy date, I discovered that Randy was a genuinely nice person. When I moved to the city at the end of my freshman year, he figured out how to find me and showed up at my house two years later. He said that he just wanted to make sure that I was happy.
Imagine my surprise when a search on Facebook yielded nothing for his name (he had an unusual one) but the Google hits below the name search included a link to a cemetery located in the town where we used to live.
I wasn’t alarmed at first, figuring that he probably worked there. Working for a cemetery isn’t such a career stretch when you’ve worked in a slaughterhouse. I clicked the link and found myself at the top of a list of names with birth and death dates. Scrolling through the names, I found Randy’s. The birth date was correct: August 22, 1961. He’d died in 1986, just days before his 25th birthday.
Not only was I sad to learn of Randy’s death, but this also completely freaked me out. Two dances, two guys, two different states, and both are dead? I’m not a Black Widow, but maybe I am a Cursed Date.
My husband thinks the idea of me being cursed is ridiculous, but that’s probably only because he hasn’t danced with me. We were broke when we married, so we tied the knot simply and cheaply, with no reception afterward. I guess being broke has its rewards, especially when there’s a curse involved.
So there it is; my dancing curse. I’d gone to two different dances, with two different boys, and they both died way too soon. It’s awful and horrible and I feel terrible for both of them and their families.
Unfortunately, I worry that my curse isn’t over. There are lots of other boys who should probably call their doctors and get a medical check-up soon. Who knows how far a curse can spread through square dancing in gym class?
Comments
Lisa, I think as I am in my mid fifties, my awareness of people dying too soon is greater than at 25. Perhaps as we mature, we uh, mature. Rated.
Lisa - Wow, you've got me beat! I guess we should consider ourselves lucky we didn't end up with those guys. Thanks for the hugs.
Chuck - You never experienced the humiliation known as "square dancing?" You ARE fortunate! Thanks for stopping by.
Pamela - I don't think an Act of Congress could get my husband to dance, so I guess he's safe from my curse. :)
So far as I know none of the boys I danced with have died, although one did get shot in the head and ended up a vegetable.
Leeandra - A shooting? Yikes! I guess I'm grateful that I don't know exactly how they died.
Michael - I love that - talking curse! One of these days, I'm going to come to Florida and you can talk all you want and I won't dare dance with you.
JK - Yeah, I'm thinking my chances of ever getting hubby to dance with me are pretty slim now.
Stim - Bwahaha! If they haven't, they probably should!
Lea - I'm surprised to learn that so many of us have outlived people we've dated. Yes, I suppose it's just life. You get what you get, and you say thank you. Thanks so much for stopping by.
bluesurly - I love your "gift." I used to say that men turned gay after having dated me. At least that's what it seemed like.
LandP - DEAL!
Owl - Someone else mentioned Maggie from Northern Exposure. I used to love that show, but I can't remember how she broke the curse. Now I have an excuse to rent the series on DVD.
Steve - I certainly hope so. :)
One in particular, Mary Ann, was a small bundle of energetic joy, while I was a lifelong smoker and zero exerciser. I found this news to be very disturbing and I keep thinking about it several years later.
Great piece
I have been known to accidentally injure those with whom I've danced but I don't believe any have died. I just assumed it was my excuse to stay home and watch movies.
Only a rather good looking man nearly half my age could make me withdraw this invitation. Don't worry, he isn't gay either and needs no introduction. His name is Barack Obama.
Whether I am widowed or divorced is a matter of perspevtive. As neither you nor our readers know me from Adam I suggest to visit www.can-my-ego-trip-save-your-marriage.info to make a rather long story short.
Pushing 79 I hope to spend the rest of my days in California where our 5 children were born and 5 of 7 grandchildren are growing up. However, lack of coverage for preeisting medical condition could bankrupt them. My native Austria provides me generous national health insurance.
President Obama promised to remove that risk. It Congress does not swiftly pass overdue legislation I rather rely on your unusual curse than the unsinkable Sarah Palin's's dubious ambition. Lisa, p0lease don'f let me down.
No problem if the curse doesn't work on straight men. Let us danse all night on a popular reality show. Bookies all over the world may take bets on Lisa's curse. Let us tithe them for a charitable Cynthia Imhof Memorial Trust's benfit that honours my dear ex' memory prepaying innovative marrige insurance premiums for potential role models unable to fund it.
Counting my blessings I would rather provide for the good cause that reconciled Cynthia and me than extend the lifetime Our Lord alotted me.
Sally - HA! That came to my mind, too. It appears that the boys I've slept with are alive and well. :)
Deborah - You're right; if he doesn't give in, I'll threaten to dance with him!
Corte33 - Sadly, too many boys have been lost to war rather than dancing.
Lisa R - Yeah, this one was percolating for awhile. Thanks for always being so supportive, my friend.
Magritte - I feel for you. Hopefully more of them are alive and well in the trailer parks than the ones who are six feet under.
Poet - I know exactly what you mean. Maybe it's true that only the good die young?
Renaissance Lady - Thankfully, staying home and watching movies was often my preferred activity, too. Who knows how many others would have been harmed? Thank you for stopping by. :)
Mr. Imhof - I truly feel for you, indeed, for all of us. Health care reform is long overdue. I hope that Congress doesn't give in to the craziness and greed and does the right thing. My best to you, and gratitude for your comment.
Sally - Thank you! I could not remember how Maggie broke her curse. I still miss the quirky fun of that show.
Mr. Imhof - I'm sending appreciation right back to you. I hope you'll stick around and continue to read and enjoy Open Salon. You can always find something interesting here. Many thanks again.
You didn't warn them you would be dancing the Tarantella !?!?!