Thursday, September 20, 2007

I Was A Bad Girl Wanna Be

In reminiscing about all the bad boys I've loved before, I remembered one of my own attempts at badness that happened the summer after High School graduation.

My friend Diana and I, compadres since 9th grade (and to this day) were lolling around in my room about 2:00 AM, with no entertainment in sight.

At eighteen, I was old enough to drink, but alas, Diana was still only seventeen. Besides, we weren't into drinking then. We'd probably already drawn portraits of each other and put our pencils away -- that's the kind of geeky stuff we usually did. Nothing was on TV. We didn't have one of those new fangled instruments called a VCR. Computers were still the size of jumbo jets. So what were two bored teenaged girls to do?

We wanted to be bad for once. Really bad.

The answer hit us: Kidnap someone.

Don't ask me why that was our answer. Some things just are.

Anyway. There was this youth minister at church who'd been flirting with me. Yes. A Youth Minister. Stop laughing. I was a well-raised bad girl wanna-be.

But all my proper training flew out the wing-window of my red '66 Beetle as we breezed down the road to Earl's* house (*names have been changed to protect the holier-than-thou).

Earl lived in a tired old farmhouse next to the church. Naturally I knew where his bedroom was (don't tell Mom). By now it was pushing 3:00 AM. We threw pebbles at his window until his rumpled blond head poked out.

"This is a kidnapping," we whispered, because proper young bad girls don't wake the neighbors during an abduction.

He disappeared from the upstairs window and reappeared in the doorway, tugging up his jeans. "What?"

"We're kidnapping you."

Where did we kidnap him to? Why the Diner, of course. Isn't that where all bad girls write their ransom notes?

We had a blast -- until we got home.

A light was on in the kitchen. On the other side of a floor-to-ceiling picture window, my father was fixing breakfast.

Insta-infarction.

Clever and quick witted, I gunned the Beetle and circled the block. All the while Diana was screaming helpful hints such as, "Ohmigod, what are we gonna do? Ohmigod, what are we gonna do?"

But besides being a freshly minted bad girl, I was a pilot's daughter. And pilots always have a contingency plan. On the final approach to the house, I killed the engine and coasted silently up the driveway.

A brilliant plan. Except...

The Beetle didn't roll all the way up.

And that's where this story ends.

Not because I got captured and imprisoned. But because Diana and I not only successfully pushed the Beetle up the driveway, we also steered it over to the side, where it belonged. My father, puttering in the kitchen, never looked behind him out the window.

If a girl does something bad and there's no one there to nab her, is she really bad?

'Fess up. What crazy stunts did you pull in your teens? Were you a Real Bad Girl, or were you a Bad Girl Wanna Be, like me?

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2 Comments:

Anonymous Bev Stephans said...

The thing I remember the most is when my 2 girlfriend and I would go riding around. Whenever we would stop at a traffic light, 2 of us would start singing bawdy songs at the top of our lungs. This embarassed the one girl so much she would slide down in the seat so no one could see her. Of course, when she was driving, she couldn't do that and her face would get beet red. We just sang louder! This was difficult in the wintertime because we couldn't leave the windows down very long but in the summertime it was great.

September 21, 2007 1:38 AM  
Blogger Ann Wesley Hardin said...

We used to go joy riding too! Diana's boyfriend had this black 40s mobster car -- we called it The Eek Mobile. We'd shout random names out the window and wave wildly at passerby. Some people would wave back, some just looked (rightly) confused.

Those were the days.

September 21, 2007 6:26 AM  

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