When I visited my family two weekends ago, I offered to help my younger brother Mike pick up some new dress clothes for his high school homecoming dance. Ironically enough, while walking through the mall, who should we run into but Rachel, my own homecoming date from senior year. We hadn't seen each other in over three years, and it wasn't long before nostalgia set in.
You have to love the tradition surrounding high school homecoming dances. It's one of those events that seems like such a big deal at the time, but in retrospect matters so very little. And the awkward little moments surely added to the experience. Meeting my date's parents was always interesting, and I'm sure it was an equally painful experience for most of those poor girls. Then there was the date etiquette -- compliments, gestures -- that my older sister insisted I practice. I'm sorry, but the last thing I want to do in front of a 45-year-old man is tell his daughter how hot she looks. Regardless, I can't help but look back at those times and smile.
So when Mike asked me for some words of wisdom, I knew he'd come to the right person. I'm not going to claim to be a homecoming dance connoisseur, but I've been to three dances, each at a different high school. And God knows I have no clue when it comes to romancing the ladies, but I think that by now I've got high school girls down. (College women are another story.)
One of the keys to a successful date has to be good conversation. I'm not the most clever or interesting person on the planet, but I've had some real sleepers for dates -- like Rachel. At dinner my senior year, when Rachel started talking about the weather, I knew things were looking bad, and it wasn't long before we hit rock bottom. "I think my favorite seasons are spring, summer and fall," she said. "Oh, and I like winter too, it's just not my favorite."
I shot a look across the table to my friend, then stared blankly at Rachel. Needless to say, we didn't end up ordering dessert.
The other key to a good date is having a good, fun attitude. Junior year, I went with a little gymnast who constantly complained about her foot. To her credit, she couldn't blink without one of her joints making a loud cracking sound. Regardless, she didn't help matters by whining about not being able to dance. Tactful as I am, I suggested we leave early, which didn't do much for morale either. Had we gone in with better attitudes, even the bleakest of dates could have been a fondly memorable night.
As I told those stories, it grew clear that the real reason Mikey sought my advice was because he was anxious about taking an older woman (He's 15, his date was almost 17). I think that as Speeds, my brothers and I were genetically predisposed to fall for older women. And I'm not just talking about my crush on Melissa Stark.
My tastes have changed over the years, but older women have always had a certain mystique about them. At age 19 I was crazy about a 23-year-old Swede named Anna. She was working in the U.S. as an au pair, and she had come from Stockholm to Washington, D.C., with two of her friends. All three were blondes, and all three were named Anna. It was almost too good to be true.
In all honesty, Anna probably was only interested in me as a way to obtain her green card, but that's beside the point. Before she left six months later, she made me promise that I would see her again. I'm sure I will at some point. Whenever she was around, my stomach was filled with butterflies. And beer. Upon leaving, she even said to me, "I am going to miss you, a very special little boy in my life." I wasn't so crazy about "little boy," but I guess it's better than what most girls call me -- "Hey, you in the bushes!"
There's no real secret to making it work with older ladies like Anna, but I told Mike he had better mind his manners -- there's less margin for error. Older women tend to be more experienced, and if you don't treat them well, they're likely to run off with some 25-year-old Law student. Mike said he wasn't worried about that. Ha! We'll see how far that attitude takes him.
It turns out that all went smoothly on Mike's date Saturday night. I won't claim full responsibility, but the cologne I let him borrow couldn't have hurt things. I hope he can look back on the night in a few years and feel good about it. Given the benchmark I've set, that shouldn't be too hard.
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