This isn’t an exciting one, it was just opportunistic. It was August. We’d got our GCSE results and there was a formal at the Royal to celebrate. It was my first formal. I think tickets probably cost £3. I wore a green dress with gold trim that my sister had brought me from probably India. (Yeah, I used to wear dresses. It was a whole other life.) I remember drunkenly thinking, halfway through the night, “Wow, there are an awful lot of bartenders here tonight.” This was because all the boys looked identical. The girls got to wear colourful dresses and the boys only got to wear white shirts with black bow ties.

I danced with one of the non-bartenders towards the end of the night and we made out by the side of the dancefloor for a while. I think he had long dark hair in a ponytail and I never saw him again. I wasn’t bothered about that in the slightest. I mean, you just couldn’t go to a formal and not get off with anybody.

Oh, and in case you were wondering, I got 2 As, 3 Bs and 4 Cs. I got a fifth C two years later when I did Italian GCSE for the hell of it. I mention this only because nobody’s asked in the last decade, and I’d been led to believe that if I failed GCSE maths, my life would essentially be over.


~ by Nine on 23 October 2008.

One Response to “#14”

  1. I love seeing this blog on my friendslist on most days, but that last little section threw me back into high school and how they painted SATs and APs and grades and extracurriculars as life-or-death experiences, and now no one ever asks me how I did in college, much less high school.

    It’s a public service, really, reminding people of this. Although my mother told me that during high school, that no one ever asked her about college, and I didn’t listen. Perhaps it’s something you have to fall prey to.

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