Lot’s of Teenagers had a Sally in their life.
But unfortunately, this isn’t one of those Hollywood romantic comedy’s where the boy gets the girl after months of chasing and awkwardness.
This is one of those stories where the kid from the broken home gets told he’s allowed to look through the window at all the happy people in the ice cream shop but isn’t allowed in the door. That the joy everyone else has will never be his to experience and worse, everyone knows it except for the kid with the big eyes and marshmallow heart.
As lots of ex-teenagers can relate to, it wasn’t that I hadn’t tried to win her over with my witty humour and puppy eyes. I just wasn’t on her radar. She was one of the cool kids at school and I was… well, I wasn’t.
I was an emotionally starved and frightened boy hiding in a teenagers body putting up a massive wall of personality to hide behind yet vainly hoping that this one special girl would see through the chinks in my armour to notice that for her I had lowered my defences in order to find love.
So, when my comedic overtures and teenage displays of chivalry went seemingly un-noticed, I turned to the only resource I knew I could count on, my writing. And boy did I write, I wrote letters, I wrote reams of poetry. I didn’t have any money to buy her gifts or chocolate, so I wrote and I wrote and I wrote.
But not one of these raw expressions of pent up teenage emotion did she ever receive. Not because of some failure in the high school postal system but because a well intentioned friend that I had told about my first letter and poem warned me off. He knew how much I wanted to make Sally my own, after all she was practically everything I talked about, and he also knew that Sally barely even knew of my existence. So he warned me “Rodney, she will break your heart and she will do it so easily that she won’t even realise she’s done it.”
At the time, I had started working for her best friends dad on a Saturday. So despite the fact that her friend had less time for me than Sally did, I thought I might be able to use the time at their business to build a friendship that would allow me another avenue of attack to get Sally to really notice me.
That idea got squashed like a cockroach at Christmas dinner when her friend walked straight up to me one Saturday morning and stated matter of factly, “You should leave Sally alone. You know you’re not good enough for her and you never will be!”
At that, she turned and walked away, leaving me to my work. It was the longest day I ever had working in that place.
To be continued – A Young boy sneaks through the ice cream shop door only to find his currency has no value.