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The rules that the Student Council had for the dance were that it was "semi-formal," meaning you couldn't wear jeans. Some of us decided to skirt the rule--literally. We arrived at the dance wearing denim skirts of various lengths. Mine was long mainly because I didn't want to shave my legs, but some of us wore shorter ones, and two or three even wore minis.
They let us in, though our chaperones, one of whom was the vice principal, scowled at us for a long time after we got in. Reactions ranged from support to amusement to indifference. The student-council president, a snooty little would-be debutante in a formal gown that we knew she would never wear again, gave me a couple of dirty looks; she had organized the dance, and probably figured we were up to something to try and embarrass her.
There were ten of us, all members of the football, baseball, and/or wrestling teams. We weren't all that popular, at least with the school's establishment, though we had never done anything wrong, except maybe lose too much--and whose fault was that? Only the football coach had ever actually played the sport he coached; the wrestling coach had a couple of volunteer assistants who had been members of the team a couple of years earlier (and they weren't very good as wrestlers or coaches); while the baseball coach had coached and umpired Little League for a couple of years before being hired for the high-school job. Only the football coach was even a teacher; he taught sixth-grade remedial reading at the middle school.
The dance was scheduled to end at midnight, so at about 10:30 we went outside to plan our next move. Each of had on something different underneath his skirt. One of us wore cut-offs, one wore pantyhose, one wore a slip, another wore a thong bikini. One of the other guys wore jeans, which he had tucked into a pair of boots under a calf-length skirt.
At 10:45, we began undressing, one by one. By 10:50, we had all undressed--except me. We were being cheered by most of the other kids, although the student-council president was not amused. I slowly unzipped my long, full skirt, and took off my blouse and skirt at the same time to reveal--a formal gown identical to that worn by the president. She screamed, while everyone else laughed, then cheered. Even the chaperones had difficulty keeping from smiling.
The president sat in a corner and composed herself, then came over to where I was dancing. I thought she was going to slap me. "Next time," she said, "wear two-inch heels with that dress--not those ridiculous basketball high-tops you have on tonight!"
©1999 Story Page
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