Mr. Freshman

My girlfriends and I were very excited about the prospect of being escorts to the boys participating in the Mr. Freshman contest. I wish I could remember more about how Stacy and I got chosen. I think the boys who entered maybe picked us? Anyway, one way or another I ended up escorting a guy named "Andy."

J-- made it, too... which means absolutely nothing.

I like that Midge is so dismissive of her ex-boyfriend "J" here. Who's bitter? Not her. :)

The role of an escort was, at first, a little unclear.

(That was written by a different "J," not the ex who was provoking some spleen from Midge.)

Turns out, our responsibilities as escorts were limited. All we did was dress up in a formal gown and hang on our guy's arm as he modeled in a tux. I think we sat in the background and smiled encouragingly when they performed their talents, too. Still, it was a distinction of a kind to be chosen, and an excuse to dress up.

Anything new going on in your life? Oh, ha! Yeah! I forgot, sorry, you don't have a life! He he he, really sorry about that! Forgive me? (Puzzy* scribble.) Mr. Frehsman! We are going to be escorts! I am way pumped! I am also way pumped for Saturday. Need I say more? Didn't think so! Bell!

*PUZZY: a word I made up to describe that emotion you get when you just want to spaz out of control, typically associated with intense feelings of excitement or love. For example, one might be so overwhelmed with the cuteness of a fluffy kitten that they have the desire to just SQUEEZUMS TILL IT POPS!! That's puzziness.

I'm sure we all were hoping that our own guy would win the contest, and that we'd get to be the girl at his side when he was awarded the trophy. In my case, I realized quite early in the competition that this wasn't to be.

Andy faired ok in the beginning stages, producing passable answers during the interview portion. I was non-plussed by his formal attire- a baggy tux with one of those hideous, shiny ties, but it was the talent portion that sealed the deal. Andy had decided last minute to juggle... in a full-body, skin-tight, purple leotard. Yep. It was over.

Oh well, c'est la vie. Did you ever get to participate in a school assembly? How'd it go? Tell us in the comments. WBS- Jess