Okay, junior high, last class of the day, school gym, last day of the school year, last day of junior high.
The basketball court is halved by a hanging curtain, girls on one side, guys on the other.
10 minutes until the bell rings and we're sitting on the bench with our book bags and gym bags from our just emptied lockers. Darlene realized a strong scent was emanating from her gym bag, opened it and realized the cap fell off her solid stick deodorant. It had smeared all over the items in the bag and had seeped through the outer fabric. Darlene pulls out the sticky and gooey deodorant base and wondered what to do with it. No trash can nearby. Tammy, ever the wisenheimer, takes one look at it and exclaims, "That looks like a dildo!"
I had never heard that word before but the phallic goo gave me a good idea what it meant. Seven or so teenage girl voices provide a collective, "Ewwwwwwww!"
Darlene was blushing but laughing. Tammy holds out her hand and says, "Give it here."
She stands up and for a second or two, we guess she has volunteered to discard the deodorant schlong but with her lightning fast all star champion softball pitcher athletic skill, she heaves it up and over the curtain divider and manages to clear the ceiling supports - towards the guy's half of the gym.
We're in shock. The girls that weren't paying attention to us before saw Tammy launch something over the curtain. Then we hear it land on the wood floor. It sounded just like you would imagine a high velocity smushy dildo would.
Sixty male voices say in unison, "Whhoooooaaaaa!"
"WHAT the HELL?!"
That's the distinctive but angry voice of Coach James.
Oh shiiiiiiiiiit. We sit down on the bench and try to ignore the oncoming loud steps while faking casual conversation. Tammy wipes the goo from her hands onto her jeans just as Coach James strides through the curtain and yells, "Which one of you threw that thing thing in my gym?"
RRRRRRrrriiiiiiiiinnnnnnnnggggggggg!
We scrambled outta there, electrified. Not until we burst through the front door of the school, did we allow ourselves to breathe and finally laugh.
I'm still laughing.
Tammy was a rock star that day.
And when I saw her last December, thirty years later, she still had my huge respect for her no fear, no plan Hail Mary bravado pass of a opaque slimy faux sex toy and the ability to complete it.
2 comments:
A funny story (memory) made even funnier by the time period. Loved how you described the coach's lack of humor. And how nice you got to hook up with Tammy again.
That's some classic shit right there. Damn, I miss days like that !
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