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When I was a senior in high school, I was one of the seniors chosen to work in the main office for an hour. This was a coveted opportunity that only a handful of students got. Instead of class for an hour, we would answer phones, sort the mail, deliver announcements, do anything else the office staff didn’t feel like doing and still get school credit. It was a sweet deal.
One day during the holiday season, I was delivering announcements to all of the classrooms. I loved delivering the announcements even though it was kind of repetitive: knock, knock… here you go… have a good day… then onto the next door to do the same.
As I was leaving one of the senior English classes, the door opened and one of the guys from the class was coming in as I was going out. Now this was no ordinary guy, he was one of the jocks. You know the type: out going, good looking, on the football team, on the basketball team, had a nice car, etc. I, on the other hand, was quite introverted, dowdy, and frumpy.
ANYway, we were there in the doorway of the classroom when everyone, teacher included, started oooohh-ing. I wasn’t sure what was going on until someone pointed above our heads.
Hanging there was a cute little piece of mistletoe. I stared at it for a moment with my heart thumping in my ears then looked at Mr Jock. He was looking at me and I knew what he was thinking “there’s no way in HELL this is happening with HER.”
I was beet red with embarrassment and just kind of smiled at him (you know the “I’m sorry, please forget you ever saw me” kind of smile) tucked my head in my shoulder and walked out of the doorway to escape before anything else embarrassing could happen.
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