*wondering why I put myself through this pressure*
Hallo Guys, here is the first installment of a very short and sweet story. I am having some issues at work today, so will catch up when I can. Enjoy.
I met Jason in standard 6. I was 12, silly and very much a nerd. I wasn’t ugly, but no oil painting either. Picture this: hair always pulled back in ponytails – asif I could afford this with the huge shiner (forehead) I have – socks and dress that ended at the knees (I kid you not – I looked like a nun gone bad). To remind you – some of my nicknames in school were: knersus, mina moo, dunlops, pizza face, knock-knees. That should give you an idea of how charmingly gorgeous I was.
And of course, we (my girlfriends – MS & RC) were not part of the “in crowd” because we were bookworms, nerdy, not the best-looking in the class. We were only good enough to be exploited by others when homework needed to be done. Needless to say our self esteem was non-existent.
Enter Jason – school heartthrob. He was in std 8 at the time. Handsome, tall, clever, witty and a whole lot of muscles too *drools at memory*. One of the star track athletes in the school. He was a god in our eyes. A greek god. And he had the most gorgeous eyes. He could reduce anyone to a puddle by just looking at them….he reduced me to a puddle every single time
Of course we noticed him – from very much afar. And in our hearts we dreamt of getting just a look or a smile from Mr Hearthrob. It stayed a dream for a while
He was always surrounded by a bevy of sexy, gorgeous girls and guys, and of course we envied them the time they got to spend in Mr J’s proximity. But we also fatalistically realised that this crowd was way beyond our league, so after a few weeks, he was delegated to a very far away place in the furthermost recesses of our very girlish and innocent minds.
Then the bomb hit our little group….just before the end of the first term one of his minions delivered the first (in a long line of) letters. But it was done so rudely. I remember some of the conversation….
Rude girl: Is jy Dizzy? (are you…) she knew who I was….
Me: Ja, hoekom (yes, why?) Can you see the defences coming up?
Rude girl: Jason gee jou hierdie (J sent you this)
Me: (incredulously looking around, maybe there was someone else by that name around) Whaa….? Uhh….Is jy seker dis vir my? (are you sure it’s for me?)
Rude girl: Is jy dom of wat? JY ja (are you stupid or what? Yes, it’s for you)
Me: O, OK (took it and shoved it in my pocket)
Rude girl mutters to herself that she doesn’t understand….well, me neither (I thought to myself)
I was glued to the spot. My heart was racing, my hands clammy, I couldn’t move for about an hour or so. *Ok, it was more like 5 mins, but it sure felt like an hour* There was a roaring in my ears, I felt I was going to faint. During this interaction with the minion, I completely forgot about my friends.
Friends: Dizzy, Dizzy, is jy OK? Skrik wakker!!! (are you OK?! wake up!!) And I sommer got a klap on the back ‘coz I wasn’t responding
They of course wanted me to open the letter NOW.
Me: Nie nou nie, ek wil dit alleen lees (Not now, when I have some privacy)
Them: O lekker no! Ons gaan NOU toilet toe sodat ons dit sommer NOU lees…(they dragged me off to the toilets so we could read the letter)
Oooh, he was good. He extolled my beauty (huh?). How much he liked me. How he’s been admiring me from afar (sounds like something from a novel, neh?). He’d noticed me from the first moment I set foot in the school (OK, he had me from the first sentence). I’m like a precious flower that no one notices until it starts blooming (yoh, I told you he was good). He thinks I’m such a lady and can he be my boyfriend? (Flip me…..)
I looked at my friends, who looked at me, then at each other….
And we burst out laughing. It took us a while to compose ourselves sufficiently to make it back to class. Which we were late for already….but we continued giggling and whispering, trying to get over this humungous event that had just occurred in our very measly lives
We (the joys of being T-blas – tight friends – it’s never I, it’s “we) thought: Was this guy mad? Had he seen what I looked like? Has he noticed that we’re the nerds? He must blarrie well need glasses. Or it was a prank. One we were not going to fall for. Huhuh, we were waaayy to clever for that
I (we) replied to him – short and sweet (coz I was mos too scared he’s gonna think me an even bigger poephol – which I had, but that’s beside the point). Ok, it took us about a week to reply to his letter. In that time we had composed and torn up about hundreds of drafts, to finally settle on the perfect reply….(infused with Charlie perfume, and a lovely flower drawn in the corner)
This was it (on very nice pink paper – I was a lady after all ;-)):
Thank you for your letter. (polite, neh?)
I have no time for boys right now
next installment to follow
Have a Fantastic day