Sexy Legs, Yeah?

Living at the opposite end of town from the High School and always running late for everything, I realized it was necessary to ride my bicycle to school one morning in order to get there right on time - 5 minutes after the bell sounded. I was an habitual late arrival, so I knew I could peddle along at my own leisurely pace on my lovely red bike, but I chose to go as fast as possible as it was just so uncool for a 15 year old girl to be seen doing such a thing.

I dressed for school, spent the usual 45 minutes fixing my hair and mascara, then shot out the door and hopped aboard my glorious red Malvern Star bicycle. It had been a Christmas gift when I was 12 years old and it was the cutest bike; for a 12 year old. As I hurtled off around the corner onto South Street, a car hooted it's horn at me and swerved sharply as it passed me by. I was about to hurl a colorful assortment of words I had not learned from school, when I noticed two faces in the back window of the car looking back at me.

Boys!

Thank heavens they kept going. Hopefully they don't remember my face, but I will need to remember both of them in case I see them at some socially spectacular event where I would need to hide from them and their ridicule. I continued on towards my school. I had shaved my legs the night before, and my nails were manicured; I felt so beautiful. I must have had sexy legs, I'm sure, or why would they have noticed me in the first place, right?

My hair was blowing in the breeze...much to my horror since I had spent all of that time perfecting every last hair and carefully securing it in place with copious amounts of environmentally unfriendly, cheap hair spray. It was unthinkable that I would wear a safety helmet though, that would never do, and where would I hide that when I got to school anyway? It was bad enough pulling in on that dorky bicycle!

Almost there...the bell must surely have sounded by now, but that's OK because I can arrive relatively unnoticed and sneak into class. Rounding the corner I suddenly heard a familiar sound. HOOT. I felt a hot rush come over me as if someone had poured a bucket of warm water over my head. I was in a very posh neighborhood by this time, maybe I could hide behind one of those huge old oak trees if I was quick enough. I was looking back, as they were pulling in by the curb. I was curious who it was, of course - so curious I didn't realize I was headed directly for the rear end of a gorgeous new Gun Metal Gray Mercedes which was proudly parked right outside our local Doctor's home.

You can guess the rest, there simply was no way to escape it. I hit that Merc right in the rear and my lustrous long hair shot past my face like I had a 100mph tail wind. I flew across the handlebars and landed on the trunk of that lovely silver/gray machine, with my checkered skirt half way up my back and my dignity half way to 'you know where'. All I could think of was those boys, and had they seen me? YES! They were laughing so hard that one of them was rolling on the lawn beside the car. I was never so embarrassed as I was at that second, and I don't think I have been ever since.

I am giggling to myself as I write this because I'm now 44,with a 16 year old of my own, who incidentally wouldn't ride a "dorky bike" if I paid her $300 per week. I may well have had a compound fracture of my left femur and a severed artery in my head somewhere and I don't think I would have noticed the blood flow and impending death - the pain was coming elsewhere, my pride.