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Tuesday, 12 February 2008

The Blond Beauty

By Lia of the Yum Yum Café blog

Years and years ago I used to collect stories of embarrassment and mortification from friends and family. Over a decade or two, I collected these pearls of narration. I thought I might write down some of these stories, names and places changed of course, and share them with you.

Jake is in his senior year at high school and he has a tremendous crush on the school’s Golden Girl. According to Jake, she is beautiful, perky-natured, and ever so sexy in a girl-next-door sort of way. Everyone is in love with her: the boys as well as the girls. Jake’s problem is that Golden Girl is so popular she doesn’t know he exists.

So, you can imagine his bliss when Golden Girl agrees to dance with him late one evening during a high school dance. A slow dance as well. A slow dance, which allows him to draw his dream girl close to his body. So close. So slow. He can even bury his head into her long golden blond hair.

And then disaster strikes. A strand of her long hair gets caught in his chewing gum. Golden Girl moves her head just a fraction and out pops his chewing gum enmeshed in her hair. Suspended, stuck, a blob of shame hanging down in front of his face.

In a desperate attempt to stop the tides of disaster, Jake comes up with a plan. He sucks the chewing gum back into his mouth and begins to grind his teeth back and forth in a desperate attempt to cut away the hair attached to the wad of gum.

This is where the story ends. I can’t, for the life of me, remember whether or not he succeeds in overcoming his plight. It doesn’t really matter, does it? Everyone hearing the story stops following the storyline the moment he begins to grind his teeth back and forth; we are suspended in a time warp of mortification.

Posted by Ronni Bennett at 02:30 AM | Permalink | Email this post


From whom did you get the story-maybe one of the participants?
What a wonderful incident to build a story on as to how it affected a person's whole life. Anybody out there want to write it?

Estelle, the fellow told my the story. He was in his 30s at the time and even though he told it with my humour, he suppressed panic was very evident.

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