Dibbons
Well-Known Member
- Local time
- 2:57 PM
- Joined
- Nov 29, 2014
- Messages
- 4,996
- Reaction score
- 6,020
- Location
- La Paz, B.C.S., Mexico
When I was 15 (sophomore) at an all boys high school I met a 14 year-old girl from a neighboring all girls school at a Friday night school-sponsored dance. Denise was president of her small freshman class of 50. I had never had a close friendship with a girl my age before, so this was something special, exciting. We were not "in love" but just getting to know one another. At her suggestion, we both were reading "Love Story" jointly.
I had never called a girl on the telephone before, so I made a few notes on a scrap of paper so I would not run out of things to say. Our ranch-style home had a telephone in the kitchen and in the master bedroom. I chose the bedroom phone one evening after I got up the courage to call Denise for the first time.
Our conversation was going well, until Dad walked in on me. He urgently asked or ordered or demanded (don't remember his attitude) that I free up the phone line and hang up. I did not understand his concern. After all, he was not a doctor, fireman, or anyone who had to respond to off-hours emergencies. I had no choice but to hang up the phone without having had the opportunity to politely say goodbye to Denise.
A minute or two later the phone rang, and Dad gloated as he commented to me how he was right and had a phone call waiting. Come to find out, it was Denise calling back to inquire why I had hung up on her. Dad never did take an interest in my love life, and enjoyed commenting on his marriage to mom with the phrase "Nothing like solo bliss."
Before Denise and I even found an opportunity to kiss, we moved away that next summer. And that was almost the end of the story. She married in college and had a family, etc. I found Denise on Facebook recently and this week I sent her condolences upon hearing about the death of her very cordial mother. I had met mother a couple of times at her home back then (circa 1970) and have fond memories of those times still.
I had never called a girl on the telephone before, so I made a few notes on a scrap of paper so I would not run out of things to say. Our ranch-style home had a telephone in the kitchen and in the master bedroom. I chose the bedroom phone one evening after I got up the courage to call Denise for the first time.
Our conversation was going well, until Dad walked in on me. He urgently asked or ordered or demanded (don't remember his attitude) that I free up the phone line and hang up. I did not understand his concern. After all, he was not a doctor, fireman, or anyone who had to respond to off-hours emergencies. I had no choice but to hang up the phone without having had the opportunity to politely say goodbye to Denise.
A minute or two later the phone rang, and Dad gloated as he commented to me how he was right and had a phone call waiting. Come to find out, it was Denise calling back to inquire why I had hung up on her. Dad never did take an interest in my love life, and enjoyed commenting on his marriage to mom with the phrase "Nothing like solo bliss."
Before Denise and I even found an opportunity to kiss, we moved away that next summer. And that was almost the end of the story. She married in college and had a family, etc. I found Denise on Facebook recently and this week I sent her condolences upon hearing about the death of her very cordial mother. I had met mother a couple of times at her home back then (circa 1970) and have fond memories of those times still.
