I Want a Girl Who's Not Popular
I must made up those things, but they are words I've actually heard spoken about some girls -- by other girls. [Uh-oh. I cut the top of this article off about thirty-five years ago.] And these words are said with a kind of awe, like it's just the greatest thing on earth to be very-very popular. Well, maybe it does mean a lot to some girls and boys -- but with this Rydell cat "Miss Popularity" bats a complete zero.
I had to learn about popular girls the hard way, but once I learned my lesson it really stuck. You see, not so long ago I met a girl from right in my neighborhood and sort of flipped for her. Boy, she was something pretty -- and had the nicest smile and way about her. For me, this was Cloud Nine, because I'm a boy who's never had time for a romance and who really longs for something that I've been missing too long.
Anyway, this girl (let's see -- we'll call her Jane) made me light up like a pinball machine, and I asked her for a date. It was one of those weekends where I would be leaving for a week, but would be back in Philly the following Saturday, so I asked her for a date seven days in advance. She agreed, and sure enough, seven days later there was Mrs. Ridarelli's son, Robert, ringing her doorbell. Jane invited me inside and I met her folks. We sat down for a "getting to know you" chat before going out for the evening -- and what do you think happened?
The phone rang. It didn't ring once, twice, or three times. Oh, no -- it rang six times, and each time it was for beautiful Jane whom you could hear quietly turning down dates and party invitations as we quietly waited for her to rejoin us in the living room.
When we went outside, Jane turned to me and said, very sincerely, "Bobby, I've never been so embarrassed. I hope you will try to understand."
"Sure," I told her. "You're just popular. You can't help that."
We went to one of those typical neighborhood clubs that Philly abounds with, and had pizza and soda and started dancing -- or should I saw Twisting, for that's what everyone is doing nowadays. As the other neighborhood kids began to drift in, they all came over to Jane. Boy, she knew everybody but the chef, and it was his night off! I will admit that I felt sort of proud of her. The kids really did like her and she was just great to everyone -- a completely natural and wonderful person.
But, I might add, it didn't make me feel any better -- for I spent the entire evening with Jane, and I'll bet we didn't talk together (alone) for more than five minutes. I'm the kind of boy who must get to know a girl. I want to take long walks, hold hands, and talk for hours.
Finally, with a flash of brilliance, I suggested that the "queen of the hop" and I go to a drive-in. Well, I'll give you three guesses what happened. The "gang" agreed that that was one swell idea and off we went -- all sixteen hundred of us.
When I took Jane home, it was getting late and we didn't have time to talk. I could tell she was a bit confused by my lack of enthusiasm, but I wasn't in the mood to explain it right then and there. I told her I would call her and we said good-night.
True to my word, I did call her -- the very next day. I decided to explain to her that I just couldn't take all this "popularity bit" and we would just be good friends. But when I was halfway through my speech, the doorbell rang and I could hear Jane's mother calling, "Oh, Jane, came and see the beautiful flowers someone sent you."
That clinched it. She was way out of my league. I mumbled a few ill-chosen words and somehow terminated the conversation. And that was that.
Looking back, it's all funny to me now, but then it seemed rather serious. My encounter with Jane made me sit down and analyze the opposite sex. When I got through "analyzing," it became crystal clear that I was one of those boys who could never fall for or go with a "popular" girl. No, sir -- I was cut out for a girl who would wait for my phone call; who would save her weekend dates for me alone and, for that matter, would put my preferences first and let the others get in line -- if there was to be any line at all!
I am still looking for my girl -- and I know she's out there somewhere waiting for me. I don't know everything about her -- in fact, I know very little. But there is one thing I know, and know for sure -- she's just going to be a regular girl. She'll look like a regular girl, dress and act like one. She's going to be sweet and simple, and just for me -- and NOT the most popular girl in town!
