I had thought all summer about doing a blog discussing my beginning club days. I was 16 when I started going out dancing and I was immediately hooked (love you Lisa J!). But since its mid September that boat has kind of sailed. But due to some recent events here's a memory that has come back to the surface.
End of summer 1976. My parents decided to take the change-of-life kids, Clancy and Robin, on vacation to Maryland for a week. The rest of us couldn't go because we all had to work. So you know what that meant: PARTY TIME!!
My older brothers were notorious for the parties they threw. All of my girlfriends knew this. So with no parents around, and their parents not knowing it: we planned to go to the Airport Inn at night and then they would stay at my house and party with the older fellas. Sounded fine to me as long as a i got my fix of dancing with guys from New York City and Montreal first.
I didn't smoke or drink or do drugs. Dancing with hot guys was my drug of choice! We girls would go out until one or two a.m. and then beat it back to my house. I'd say hi and goodnight to the guys and go to bed upstairs: leaving my girls to...whatever they were doing! Then in the morning I would get ready for work and step over the bodies sleeping on the floor as I left for work!
And then Thursday night rolled around. Out to the club as usual and then back to the house. But this night I stayed up a while to be social; finally heading upstairs later than usual and knowing I would be a sleepy unit at work.
Upstairs there were two large bedrooms but I used the bed in the hallway. I was exhausted and only had a couple of hours to sleep. I slipped out of my skirt and pulled my top off over my head. I hung the clothes up on the clothing rack and finally slipped beneath the sheets, turning over to sleepily face the wall.
Suddenly: I wasn't alone! Someone had slid into the bed with me! I hurriedly turned back over and it was my brother's best friend who shall remain nameless. "What are you doing???" I asked.
He looked confused. "Um...I was in the bedroom and i thought you were undressing for me. "
"No, I was undressing for me. I have to be at work in like 3 hours. I had no idea that anyone was up here."
A crestfallen look came over his face. "Oh. So you want me to go?"
This was a really good-looking guy that I had had a crush on for two years and NEVER thought I'd ever have a chance with. Healthy, tall, tan, smart and only dressed in his underwear. I honestly paused for a moment. But then I remembered who I was. I wasn't like my friends, I was only 16, went to church every Sunday and was planning to hold on to my virginity until I was married. Yes I went clubbing and occasionally kissed a guy or two (it was the 70s!) But I knew who I was. Regretfully (hey I was still a human teenage girl!) I said, "Yeah, I think its best if you go back to the room." He kissed my cheek. "Okay goodnight." Then I watched him go back into the room.
Yes thats right I watched him. I was 16 and he was fine and only in underwear! But seriously as I think back on that a lot of things could have gone wrong. He could have refused the word no. He could have cursed at me and called me a tease. Or he could have gone downstairs and lied to everyone about bagging me. But he did none of those things because at the end of the day he respected my wishes: something that doesn't always happen in situations like that.
When I recounted this to my girlfriends (come on, you knew I would!) they couldn't believe I turned him down. "You did a strip tease for him and then turned him down???" one friend asked incredulously. "I didn't know he was there!" I insisted. "House rules were no one upstairs." Another girl said, "I wouldn't have said no!" Few girls would have but I'm thankful that even though I was naive back then: I was still smart enough to keep my reputation intact. Thankfully that was also the last night of notorious parties so I wouldn't be tempted again.
And thats my Gypsy Rose Lee story: the closest I ever came to being a stripper!
