Back in my swingin' high school days, I had a brief tryst with a young man named...what shall we call him? Tod? And by brief I mean a few phone calls, a kiss or two, a few notes passed in the hall (remember THOSE?) and then we were both on to greener pastures.
However, during one of our phone calls--and let me say here that my sympathies go out to high school boys who have to endure the phone habits of high school girls just to get a smooch. Us girls could TALK, seriously--poor Tod was probably wishing he lived in Britain or somewhere with local toll calling.
But anyway. Despite the newness of our tryst we were not NEW to each other, had the same friends, blah blah. One day we were talking about (what? I don't remember) maybe who is most popular in our school or something. And he pauses...I sense he has an opinion about this, yet he needs to preface his comment somehow. So he's all,
You know you're not the prettiest girl in school, right?
What is there to say to that? Even at age 35 I can't think of a decent response, other than to stop the conversation immediately. I deserve better! You shmuck! Probably not a bad idea, but I had high school girl talking tendencies--talking better than not talking in almost all circumstances.
So I'm all--yes! Of course I know this! Duh! (I didn't actually know this. And I certainly didn't know the boys were RATING us.)
And he's all, good. Glad we got that cleared up. Now about the most popular girls (or whatever it was)...
Sigh. I should not have responded that way.