Poor Little Good Girl……..

I am sure every one is familiar with the description of

Gloria Vanderbilt as the “Poor Little Rich Girl”.

But I am almost positive you’ve never heard the story of the

“Poor Little Good Girl”.

When I began college in 1966,

at the tender age of 17,

I was, in no way, prepared for it.

I had just graduated from an “all girls” Boarding School.

I was raised Catholic.

I didn’t smoke, drink, have sex or do drugs.

 I was paralyzed with fear at the thought of not being

” A Good Girl”.

(Thank you Mom & Catholic Guilt).

Every one in my dorm was taking Birth Control Pills.

I brought Flintstone vitamins from home.

I’m sure you’re getting the idea now.

One night a couple of weeks after school started,

I met an upperclassman from a nearby college.

He invited me to a fraternity party….( my first)

I was flattered , excited  and a little scared.

He looked just like John Lennon

with his long hair and pince- nez glasses.

I liked the real John Lennon.

So, I thought: “sure,why not”?

The big day arrived.

He picked me up in a little Mercedes convertible.

I thought we were off to a good start!

We laughed a lot on the drive over and

I was almost”giddy”with thoughts of my new life,

and the prospect of all that freedom!

I was ready to rock’n roll!

mercedes-benz-vehicles-1965-mercedes-benz-230sl-conve-2103462

We arrived at the fraternity party,

got settled and he said:

“Would you like a drink?”

I replied:” uh.. I don’t drink, but could I have a coke?

He looked incredulous and for a split second he thought I might be kidding .

He then rattled off a list of 20 different drinks he could get for me.

Anything I want….. ANYTHING!

I decline sheepishly and say I’ll stick with the coke.

Now he is both incredulous and annoyed.

At this point in time, I can see my entire dating future  may be in jeopardy.

My only hope is that I might have another chance to show him how cool I really am!

I want him to see the REAL ME!

I’m smart, really funny, witty. I have matching curtains and bedspreads in my dorm room.

(Something, I’m sure, that haunts my old roommate to this day!)

I have Great Hair…

What’s not to like?!

The only thing I did occasionally, that was even close to “cool”

was puff on a “ciggie”  in the snack bar,

even though I could not inhale.( never learned).

A few minutes passed and he disappeared.

I assume he needed a quick drink or two.

He came back into the room and approached me with a tiny bit of hope in his eyes

( or maybe it was the bourbon)

and said:

“Do you smoke”?

THERE IT WAS!

My last chance…..

I said: why yes.. I DO smoke!

He looked encouraged and proceeded

to ask if I would like some really good stuff from Columbia.

12e76f3dea3c339b9ac286a908a0f7c7

I looked a little confused and replied:

“Hmm, Columbian? I’ve never heard of that”.

Well, what DO you smoke?

With all the pride I could muster,

I replied: TAREYTONS!

I thought that would do it!

It did.

His face became contorted in a mask of incredulity mixed with disgust,

as though I had just made a “doody” on the hood of his  car.

In that moment,

I could see the evening and my hopes for future dating success,

 anywhere with anyone…..

were over.

Guys apparently do talk to each other

and before the end of the weekend, I would become a legend.

and… not in a good way.

Shortly after “the incident”, John Lennon returned me to my dorm,

in that cute little Mercedes convertible and

drove into the night…. never to return.

Have you ever heard people talk about

a college girl from the 60’s, with great hair-

the one

who was a virgin and didn’t smoke, drink or do drugs….

the one you should never date- under ANY CIRCUMSTANCES?

Yeah…

That was me!

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s