Two teenage girls, naive and excited, climbed into the back of an ugly green van (affectionately called “The Sweet Pickle Bus”) with 6 teenage boys, not once considering the potential danger. This was about love, or their conception of it, which did not include “News at 11″ type headlines. Fortunately, these were nice boys. Relatively speaking.
One girl was on a “date”, the other one was me. My not-so-secret crush was in that van and it was my intent to steal him away from his rather pretty girlfriend. Not schooled in the art of flirting, I had no idea how to do this. I simply trusted Fate to do its work. Fate did not disappoint.
Seated in the passenger side of the careening Sweet Pickle Bus (it careened everywhere it went), was the most annoying guy I had ever met. He insisted on speaking with a fake Scottish accent and playing “Today” by Smashing Pumpkins ad nauseam. I’d seen him in school–tall, hulking, shaved head, brown corduroy jacket, dark-colored chucks–and thought him the quiet and brooding type. So much for first impressions. He was loud and obnoxious. I turned my attention to my crush, willing him to love me with my penetrating stare. He didn’t even look at me.