In my list of “to dos and did thats” I have never dated a cheerleader. At least I am pretty sure I haven’t. I would think that the subject would come up early on, since the conversation always seems to go quickly into why I am a pirate, which leads me back to my marching band days in high school and the thrill of performing in public.
And that is where “never the twains shall meet,” as Kipling would say. While we regularly passed like ships in the night at the various events at Hazen that would draw cheerleaders and band folks into the same proximity, as we all know, cheerleaders date football players, not band guys.
I had soured on cheerleaders in high school. Now, I know what you’re saying: “But Robb, cheerleaders are way out of your league.” They are part of the popular crowd and well, you’re a bit of a dweeb.
Yes, I was. But it didn’t bother me too much. I had been the victim of a cruel joke as a junior, asked out by a senior cheerleader to homecoming in a scene that could have been pulled right out of the Drew Barrymore movie, Never Been Kissed.
I never got plastered with eggs. But suffice it to say, it was a broken heart moment. O.K., not a broken heart. But certainly a bruised ego.
When I was a pirate, I met many of the Seahawks cheerleaders up in Seattle. One time, just for fun, I tried to steal a cheerleader away from one of the wide receivers just because I was a pirate. I did. We didn’t date technically that night, so my track record is intact.
I can’t really blame Dorine Francis for playing that prank on me in high school. If you’re out there cheerleader girl, I forgive you. And today I wouldn’t give you the time of day let alone the time of your life.
I still hold a place in my heart for another cheerleader, though. I had such a crush on her and for a time we were fast friends when we were in school. But sadly, she ended up breaking my heart, too.
You see, I was supposed to marry her. Yes, mawwiage, for all you Princess Bride fans out there. She was the one, what can I say.
I didn’t know this, however. I only found out recently. It was my mother who broke the news one day during a casual conversation.
It seems that Ann Greer’s mother and mine were in the hospital at the same time, sharing a room in maternity. During the hours of chit-chat that two mothers to be do to pass the time, they decided that if one had a boy and the other a girl, that they should be betrothed at birth.
Yes, my mother dealt me away while still in the womb. Ann was to be my wedded wife someday.
Of course, it never happened. All hope was lost the day Ann made cheerleader and then homecoming princess. Like all the other cheerleaders, Ann fell for a football play or a college freshmen – both being interchangeable in the “desirables” category.
I’m not making this up. We were actually betrothed. But after she made cheerleader, we never spoke again.
I’m just kidding here. Not about the betrothal… that is a true story. Rather, about being disappointed in her never speaking to me again once she got her cheerleader togs.
Cheerleaders and I have always seemed to move in different circles. I guess we want different things out of life.
I have never been one to swoon over the popular girls, not in high school, college or the real world. I found them to be a bit pretentious and boring. Not all of them, of course. I can only address the ones I have known. They always seem to be stuck on their status, often at the expense of their friends and their own growth as a human being.
Let’s face it, we can’t all live in high school forever. Eventually, all those icons of status give way to the real world. Superficiality is not a highly desirable trait when we’re older. Yes, I know many people who are still superficial. But others who once were have become more grounded over the years, and more real. They realized that you aren’t really judged by your accomplishments in the real world, but by who you are and whether you made the most out of the God-given talents you were given.
This is one of the reasons why I have never been impressed by someone’s career. It’s so easy to hide behind a profession and let it define you. Ever meet a doctor? Geez, most still suffer from Cheerleader Superiority Syndrome (CSS). They might as well have traded in their white smocks for a short skirt and pom pons, they are so filled with themselves because of their self-ascribed status in our world. I bet more than a few politicians have the same ensemble. I’ve also known a few CEOs who probably do a high kick in the privacy of their own homes now and then.
I remain unimpressed by it all. All I can say is “sis-boom-bah” with an emphasis on the “bah!”
A friend of mine made the mistake of marrying a cheerleader once. It didn’t last, of course. When his fortunes faded she high tailed her way out of his life, ditching him for the next guy in line. He wasn’t sorry or even sad.
I asked him why it didn’t bother him.
“Well, Robb,” he said. “For five years I made love to the most beautiful woman I have ever known. But not once did she ever make love to me. I should have just saved a lot of time by buying her a vibrator and mirror to go with the house she got in the divorce.”
Geez… either we were married to the same woman at one point or they deserved the same parting gifts. All that was missing the last time was the mirror.
Out on the Treasure Coast, reflecting on my odd and wonderful, cheerleaderless life,
– Robb