Tuesday, November 1, 2011


There I stood, my back against the wall, trying to keep an expression of amused contentment on my face so no one would guess that I felt completely awkward. The dance floor was full, and I kept a close eye on the tight groups of kids who moved in and out of circles. I was especially aware of the pairs who seemed to be trying to disappear inside of those circles, what were they up to out there? I wondered if I would dance at all tonight.

The room was dark and dank. I eyed the refreshments table, thinking I could loiter over there for a while to keep up the pretense that I was doing more than just staring at the dancers. I noticed a boy sitting alone at the bank of chairs near the long, dripping table of junk food.  He stood out because he was the only boy sitting under a chair. I wondered if he was okay. Would it be helpful for me to go and talk to him? Should I get him a drink? Sit with him… under there? I edged closer and nonchalantly said hi, and asked if he was okay. He ran out of the room. Literally.

I retreated to my post against the wall, where I had a good overall view of the room. I fervently wished that someone would spike the punch. This dance was boring and endless, and a cocktail would be just the thing to take the edge off.  I’d like to slip a shot to half the spazoid kids out there, too. But I won’t, because that would be inappropriate behavior for a chaperone.

This was my son’s first middle school dance, and yes, I was a chaperone. Me! 

to be continued...


Lisa S said...

This week's episode of "This American Life" was on this very topic! Check out Act Two. It's pretty amusing.


Me, You, or Ellie said...

Oh, I remember that dance well -- you texted me "send vodka STAT."

I fervently hope the "to be continued" includes more about the Boy Under The Chair.

Can't wait to check that out, Lisa!


Me, You, or Ellie said...

Maybe just a bit inappropriate for a chaperone. But, yikes, this scene so far is giving me the creeps. It sounds as though something incredibly scary is going to transpire in this dark and dank room. Or wait, maybe outside of the room, at the hands of the previously under-the-chair young man who has fled.

And did you ever get a cocktail?!

Such a cliff hanger, Jacqueline!