All My Exes: Part 4
Three Beards
PART 4: THREE BEARDS
I’ve been dating men since Ellen came out on the cover of TIME.
But in high school… Yep, I was “straight.”
I had three girlfriends within the span of my high school career and I was thrilled with the idea of reconnecting with them and including their voices in this project.
… How much did these early romantic experiences with women impact or influence my future relationships with men?
My theory was…. not much.
But I was wrong.
Writer and Producer: Evan Roberts
Story Editor: Kate Sullivan
Consulting Producer: David Boyer
Illustration: Andy Gottschalk
Table of Contents:
The Most Popular Girl in 7th Grade
It had been over 20 years since I had talked with Most Popular, and now I was sitting in her mostly cream living room on her cream couch. Her husband had disappeared somewhere upstairs.
Where we grew up, three grammar schools from neighboring towns came together to form the regional junior high school.
Somehow she was collectively chosen to lead us all, edging out the #1 girl from the two other elementary schools on the very first day of school. Put that on your resume!
As an introvert, I was content to observe the sociological shifts from the sidelines.
But suddenly, people from other towns knew my name. Or they were looking at me as I passed them in the hallway.
The Most Popular Girl in 7th Grade liked me.
Inquiring minds wanted to know: Do you like the Most Popular Girl at School?
(Duck quacks added to hide real names)
My older sister and Most Popular’s older brother were both upper echelon sophomores at the high school next door and had orchestrated our pairing behind the scenes.
It felt like an arranged marriage, a match made by our elders in an effort to join two powerful houses.
Now that the spotlight was on me, I felt like I had to perform the role.
We started talking on the phone. Passing notes in the hallway.1
At the first school dance of the year, I asked her out to the movies. We swayed back and forth as Axl Rose whistled.
The next week we went to see “Parenthood” with Steve Martin, and I agonized about when and how I should put my arm around her shoulder during the movie.
I didn’t.
According to this Compatibility Report that I procured from a wizard arcade game at the beach, I needed a lot of cash to keep Most Popular’s interest.
It was going pretty well until she invited me to a pool party.
I told her I couldn’t make it.
Oh, for sure. Actually, I’m not sure.
Back then, I was afraid that the boys she invited - athletic, ripped seventh graders with abs like a surfer - would decide my fleshy nipples and love handles didn’t belong there.2
How I Imagined Most Popular’s Pool Party:
The Pool Party I Wanted To Go To:
After I declined her invitation, our frequent phone calls fizzled out and her spotlight swung elsewhere.
Back on her cream couch, our conversation was warm and engaging.
Absolutely nothing was at stake, so I asked her a question that the 7th grader in me was still curious about:
In the spotlight of Most Popular, I had felt something I’d never felt before.
The boys stopped looking at me sideways. I wasn’t a target for a brief moment.
I had to find another girlfriend.
First Kiss
It was a whole year before I charmed my way into dating my next girlfriend, First Kiss.
She was a bad ass with bloody braces, a playful spirit who was up for improvising. Hanging out with her felt like recess never ended.
It was the first time I realized that the person you dated could bring out your favorite parts of yourself.
On Halloween, her brother hosted a party in the garage with his friends, the smart nerds of our school who later went into science or software.
We decided to be the entertainment, so we prepared a skit.
Twenty eighth graders entombed themselves inside an empty garage, hot-boxing their hormones and overdosing on FritoLay and Mountain Dew.
Outside, I limp from woods edge - disheveled and out of breath.
I bang on the garage door until the music stops.
The garage door rises slowly to reveal slack jaws and blinking bespectacled eyes.
I screamed:
“The Axe Lady is trying to kill me!”
Before she finished, they had turned away and the music came back on.
No one appreciated our pumpkin performance art.
Later, First Kiss and I had the garage to ourselves. I had brought the cassingle of “This One’s for the Children” by the New Kids on the Block.
We slow danced, and when she bent up to kiss me, her braces knocked right into my front teeth.
Kiss fail or not, I was filled with a masculine accomplishment - a rare feeling - and I was proud to have finally made it to the elusive first base.
I was still riding high by Monday when I wrote The Note.
I wrote First Kiss a private note that quickly got stolen and traveled all around school.
After the humiliation of Tartar-gate, she dumped me.
I was blindsided.
Months later, I wrote about the break up in my journal.
June 7th, 1991.
When we broke up, she didn’t even tell me why. I don’t love her anymore, but I want her to be a good friend of mine. She is the first person I know of that has a lot in common with me…
This is the first documentation of my longing for friendship to remain after a break up, ever hopeful that the end of romance didn’t need to knock the teeth out of an authentic connection.
