Love, Jimmie

It was 1990 and I was a senior in high school. I had kissed a few boys but had only had one boyfriend of note. His name was Chris and he was cute but we fell apart pretty quickly when I learned that he cut the tags out of my bras so that he could show his friends what size bra I wore. Remember I was breastacularly blessed in those days. I really felt like he liked me for me and not what I brought to the party, so to speak. I thought he was one of the few guys whose eyes made contact with mine and not my chest. Apparently I was mistaken, but honestly I wasn’t crushed. I was only 16 after all.

Then when I was 17 I took a field trip with my classmates. On the bus one of my good boy friends, Billy, and I talked about prom. I know this will be hard for you to believe, but I was super shy in high school. I didn’t talk much outside of my circle and especially not to boys. I would have DIED if I had to start a conversation with one so the boys who were close to me were pretty rare. Anyway, Billy and I talked about prom and decided we’d like to go together. See, he was really tall and I had a super cute car. I could wear heels without feeling like the dork that was taller than her date and he got the chance to drive my car, which he loved. I was pretty excited about this plan.

About two weeks after I made this date, another boy started showing interest in me. His name, and I am not even kidding, was Bubba. Bubba looked me in the eye and asked me out for real dates and before long, I was wearing his class ring. I’d spend an hour or so every Sunday night melting wax from a candle and molding it to fit in the back of that ring so that it would fit me. Then I’d stare at it for hours. I loved wearing that ring. And Bubba was nice too.

When prom time rolled around, Bubba started making some noise about what we would wear. I had already designed my dress – it was a black mullet dress with a white and black polka dot liner. I was so proud of it. Here’s the problem, though. Billy had already picked out his tux to match my dress. We still were planning to go to prom together. It never occurred to me to take Bubba until he mentioned it. I wanted to go with Billy. It was a difficult conversation but Bubba said he understood.

Billy and I had a fantastic time at the prom. And then we had a fantastic time at the after party. Bubba attended the party as well, and while I liked showing off the ring to all my friends, I never seemed to make the leap into actually showing off my boyfriend. Late into the night, Billy got . . . . sick to his stomach. Yes, sick to his stomach. I’m pretty sure it was some . . . . bad crab dip, yes of course, because I know there was no alcohol at that party (Hi, Daddy-O!). Since we took my car to the prom, I drove him home leaving Bubba behind with all my friends.

Not long after that Bubba and I parted ways. It might have been the next day. I cannot recall. What remains of our relationship is a prom picture in which I am wearing his ring and some graffiti under a bridge that reads “Bubba loves Jimmie”. I’d take a picture of it but there are probably snakes under that bridge and while I loved that ring, I’m just not that committed.

In case you hadn’t guessed, Billy grew up into Prom Date Will. I’m so sad that you can’t see Bubba’s ring in the picture. Still, when Prom Date Will and I get together again, we are totally going to recreate this photo with a modern day awkward pose. I figure we are good for it in 20 years which is exactly how often we see each other. I wonder if Bubba would let me borrow his ring.

This was my date.

And this was my car.