First Love

When there was nothing, I was desperate for anything. I wasn't picky. Ugly can't be picky. All of my friends had boyfriends; I wanted one too. Five years of longing for a boyfriend. Zip. Zero. Nothing. Then a look, a long stare, a whistle, a date. Then another date and another. There was Sam and Larry and Larry and John and Ben. And that was in a six-month period in 1965. When there were a lot to chose from, the choices became more difficult. I wanted the best of the best. Handsome was at the top of my list of mate specifications.  No ugly for me. Nah! Nope! No way! Ain't gonna happen. Call me shallow. I wanted pretty. Don't judge me; you know you want pretty, too.

It was the summer in my twenty-first year. I enjoyed the sudden attention from the opposite sex but I didn't trust it. I had been trapped in ugly for so long that it became part of who I was: uggggg lee. Why were men looking at me? Is my slip showing? Do I have toilet paper sticking out of my shoe? Is my dress stuck up my crack? It confused me, but it felt so good.

In June, 1966,  another one of my middle-school crushes had just broken up with his girlfriend, and his friend set him up on a blind date with, yep, you guessed it, me. The stars were aligning; I couldn't believe my good luck. Below is a post I wrote on February 3rd.

For most of my middle school and high school years, Mike Nickels owned my heart. But love loves to love and when love loves in overdrive, there's going to be some detours now and then. My heart wanted Mike, but it also yearned for Johnny Yount and Gary Perkins and Gary Estes and Bobby Ellis. Those were my five main love interests who took turns being my spoon pillow.

It was all innocent enough; I wasn't looking to stray. It just happened. I was standing outside one of my eighth grade classrooms, when the most handsome and popular senior boy walked by me with his cheerleader girlfriend and an entourage of about five other seniors. Since the high school was attached to the middle school, it wasn't unusual to see upper classmates strut their stuff through our hallways.

It was love at first sight. "Sorry Mike, Johnny, Gary, Gary, Bobby. Ronnie Coal is my spoon pillow now."

My fantasy love affair with the most sought-after, popular senior prom king lasted only one school year. He graduated and I never saw him again. "So I'm back Mike, Johnny, Gary, Gary, Bobby. I'll change the pillow case." 

This is a drawing of me at my vanity writing my future name: Carol Coal, Mrs. Ronald Coal, Mrs. Coal. Carol Louise Coal. It has such a nice ring to it, doesn't it? Speaking of "ring," he did buy me an engagement ring fifteen years later, but that's another story for another time. I lied about never seeing him again.

RJ would be my first love, and I hoped my last.  But, alas, the stars strayed from their alignment and luck changed sides.

Note: The towels were over the mirrors so I didn't have to look at ugly. Sad, but true.