11 - The Other Way of Stopping

At this point, I will jump ahead in my story to 1982-83. Alex Vance had moved to Canal Winchester and, consequently, my friendship with Billy and Bryan Barrett had grown quite a bit, even if it meant bike rides all the way down Bartlett Hill to the other end of the Huber subdivision.

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In the autumn of 1982, Bryan and I were in 8^th grade and played on the Soccer team together. Billy was a freshman and also played Soccer. We hung out and practiced together, kicking the ball back and forth during practice and generally joking around together.

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The next spring, Bryan and I were roomies during the Junior High’s trip to Washington D.C. It was a three-day affair, with stops at all the local hot spots, including dinner and dancing one night at the Watergate Hotel.

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During the dance, I hung out with Bryan at one of the tables at the edge of the room. Briana and Jenny were there, too – and sometimes Briana would dance with Bryan while I sat in the corner with Jenny. Soon, she left, too, to hang with her friends from band, who I really didn’t know. So, I stayed behind, guarding the table.

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Billy, who was out on the dance floor all night have a great time, dancing with a variety of girls, took a break and saw me sitting there alone.

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“What are you doing way back here?”

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I shrugged.

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“C’mon, get out on the dance floor. I’ll hook you up with one of the 9^th grade girls.”

I shook my head.

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“Don’t be such a pussy. Come on already.”

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I followed Billy to the dance floor just as “Endless Love” by Lionel Richie and Diana Ross came over the speakers.

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“Aw, shit,” I said.

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“Come on!”

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Billy paired me up with some girl I’d never met. She was about a half-foot taller than me and smelled of cheap perfume and cigarettes. Still, it was nice when she pulled me closer and smothered my face in her breasts.

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Remember – I’m NOT a breast man.

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As we danced for a while, I don’t remember much, but I remember it was good. Bryan was dancing with Briana and she looked happy. Every so often, I caught glances of Billy and some girl, too. He nodded affirmatively as he gave me the thumbs up. I smiled. One half of my face was hot and sweaty where my cheek laid on this girl’s breast.

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About halfway through the song, there was a “Shut up!” followed by a chorus of laughter that brought the dancing to a standstill. Another guy from the 9^th grade ran off the dance floor and out the double doors at the end of the auditorium.

Billy was laughing really hard.

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“What was that?” I hissed.

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“Craig MacIntyre came inside his dress pants while dancing with Marci Reed.”

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“Holy fuck.”

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“I guess she was rubbing her hand on him or something and one of the teachers tried separating them at the exact wrong time.”

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“Holy fuck. That could only happen to Jack Mac.”

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“Hahaha! Jack Mac!” repeated Billy Barrett, “now that’s a name I haven’t heard in a long, long time.”

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All I could think about for the rest of the song was Marci Reed’s out-of-pants hand job. I’m sure the girl I was with knew it, because when the song ended, she pulled away.

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“Hey Balth?”

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It was Jenny Chang.

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“Can I have this next dance?”

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The girl obliged and soon, I was arm-in-arm with Jenny Chang – my first crush.

The DJ stopped for a second as he queued up the next song. I was in luck, it was another slow song: “Our House” by Crosby, Stills, and Nash.
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As it began to play, however, a lot of the kids just weren’t that into it. Many couples separated and left the dance floor. Even Jenny, who had started the song slow dancing, was now weaving back and forth, dancing some sort of slow hippie girl dance. I smiled and did the hippie dance with her. Soon, my little hard-on faded and we enjoyed each other’s company until the song ended and we parted ways again.
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I don’t really remember much else about that night, but I remember it was good: really good.

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