WORKING ABOVE MY PAY GRADE
Junior-Senior Prom
is a big deal, and I asked for and was approved for a prom date with the
prettiest, coolest girl in school. All the boys in our Junior class would have
eaten ground glass for her, and I was among them. Everyone knew, though, that I
was outta my class, as Jerry D recently said, "Working above my pay
grade."
All arranged,
doubling with another couple, borrowed the family car, a brown 1960 Ford
Starliner (which makes me wonder today why anyone would slap brown paint on a
really sexy car) and we were off to Grand Island for a big fancy dinner after
the prom.
Only problem--I got
food poisoning that kicked in about the beginning of the dance. By the time we
were off to Grand Island, I was sick in the back seat. She drove. I wandered
around the parking lot of the restaurant, thinking I would get better, but no go. She drove back, too, at what was
reported to me later as being very high speeds. Seemed to be upset, hmmmmm.
The trials of a
teenager.
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