Since the dance was near Easter, we had an elaborate way of asking the guys out. It took literally hours to do, and I'm sure mere minutes (if not seconds) to undo:
We blew out the insides of a bunch of eggs and washed them out. Then we refilled them with a variety of items. My favorites were honey and oil. We also left some raw eggs in the basket but made holes in both ends and filled them in (I believe with a glue gun) so you couldn't tell by looking which eggs had been tampered with.
The eggs with the big question (probably four or five, "Will you" "go to" "MORP" "with me" and then our names) were all on slips of paper in sugar-filled eggs. Those ones took the longest to fill. (You'd be surprised how much sugar fits into an egg and how long it takes to gradually fill up five!
Sheryl's little sister dressed up in a pink bunny suit and delivered the baskets of eggs to each guy's house. Sheryl's date had family over at the time, and we could see them all jump in to crack open eggs. We heard later that it was a a giant mess. :)
On the day of the date itself, we created an elaborate treasure hunt. We had supposedly been captured by the KGB, and they had to find us. Remember, this was the Cold War era (totally dating myself here. I'm guessing some of my readers don't even know what the Cold War was or at least don't remember it).
My mother picked up our dates and handed them the first clue. (Side note: When she picked up mine, his father ran out the door with wide eyes. "Are you my son's date?" She assured him that no, she was the date's mother. Oh, okay then. He relaxed and went back inside. My mom is such a kidder, I wouldn't have put it past her to joke around as say that yes, actually, her son's dating a forty-something woman.)
They had to drive around to various locations in the city to find the next clue and the next. My dad was game, serving as one of the clue givers. Sheryl's uber-theatrical brother was another. He dressed up in a black trench coat with goth make-up and a scary Nazi voice and attitude that pretty much freaked the guys out. Man, I wish I could have seen that one.
The final location was supposedly "KGB Headquarters." We three girls had made a very nice meal for the guys at Sheryl's house. Sheryl's family had a big painted sign in their garage (like five feet tall) that looked like an Italian pizza guy pointing one direction, so we propped him against a tree pointing at the house. To his chest, we taped a paper that read, "KGB Headquarters."
We thought we were so clever.
It never occurred to us to think of poor Mrs. Woshnick from Poland, living next door, or that the sign was tilted slightly, so that at some angles, it almost looked like it was pointing at her house. She frantically picked up the phone and asked Sheryl's mother what this KGB business was about.
Sheryl's mother, to her credit, kept her cool. She explained the situation. Mrs. W didn't quite understand what a school dance had to do with this sign on the yard, but she did understand a "joke."
"So it's just a joke?"
"Yes, it's just a joke," Sheryl's mother assured her. "It doesn't mean anything."
"Oh, all right then . . . if you're sure."
"I'm quite sure."
We got a slight talking to. Nothing major, but more along the lines of, "It seriously never occurred to you that the woman next door used to live in a communist country and that seeing such a sign might upset her even a little?"
Um, no. No, it really didn't. We were stupid 16-year-olds trying to have fun.
And we did have fun. MORP was a ball.
I don't know where my date ended up (although he became senior class president). Sheryl's date is now a dentist and I believe lives in my stake, so I've run into him at the grocery store with no makeup on and sweats (yeah, let's all remember how great I look like that, shall we?). He was always a great high school buddy of ours.
I never did get to know Janee's date all that well. He'd recently moved from California and hated Utah. That's about all I remember about him. So I'm thinking he's elsewhere now. Just a guess.
To my knowledge, Mrs. W. still lives in that house, and nothing else has given her a Soviet fright since.
Of course, it helps that the Soviet Union itself no longer exists.
23 comments:
Wow, you really went all out! Someone I know had a date on a traffic median once. A table and dinner all set up with traffic going by. The things we do to be original!
Okay, this was seriously one of the funniest blogs ever.
Oh my gosh, how funny! But what a fun time! Once, for Sadie's, we all wore t-shirts that said, "Nuke Iraq" on them.
That's hilarious!
I did a similar date asking technique for MORP but putting pieces of paper into fortune cookies.
Okay a few things to date me, and identify me as one that has never lived in Utah except for two years at BYU, when I was already married so didn't get asked out any:
1. I have no idea what MORP stands for.
2. I have never experienced the elaborate asking to go to dances that happens out there. That does not happen in NC. Nothing of the sort. Boys may stop you in the cafeteria, or call you on the phone. Nothing more original than that. Oh, the fun I missed! :)
3. I do not have any personal memories of the cold war.I was ten when it was over and was much too concerned with strawberry shortcake and saddle club books to know that there was a political world much bigger than me. :)
I'm glad Mrs. W is okay. :)
I love flashing back like that. You're making me want to record some of my past stories because I was too lazy to keep a journal in my youth.
That poor woman though!
I admit I'm really glad the whole craze of creative asking out passed us by in Cali. I don't think I could have kept up. I had to ask a guy to our mid-winter formal because I was on ASB and we sponsored the event. I think I said, "Hey. I have to go for my grade. Wanna go?" I'm sure he was flattered.
I asked a guy to MORP but was turned down--he had been asked hours before by another girl. {sigh}
We were always brutal to each other on April fools day. Each of us has had our turn being in tears, only to discover that it was a joke. Good grief, why we did it year after year I'll never know!
- Chas
Oh! So much to say! I can totally get the moving from California to Utah and not loving it. It really is more like a foreign country in many respects. (One I was born and raised in, and therefore understand, but transferred my affection to California my teenage years).
I can imagine that poor lady being scared. Greg still HATES the flippant use of the term "Nazi". (as in Soup Nazi etc.) Those things just hold NO HUMOR for people closer to the situation.
I love the Easter egg thing. Very nasty fun for those boys! :)
Annette, just because the Soviet Union no longer doesn't mean the KGB doesn't exist. They're still out there. They've probably already read this. I think I might be making myself scarce when it comes to your blog for a while....
We did a date like this with the scavenger hunt, too. Except we didn't have people helping -- we just made really obvious clues and left them in really obvious places. But the boys being 17 didn't quite get it. They were an hour late for the sold-out movie I was saving seats for. It was........an adventure.
That date sounds so time consuming and so fun! And yeah, that poor woman...
I once asked a boy out in that elaborate kind of way and he just came up to me in the hall the day after and (with a shrug) said, "Sure. I'll go." The date was kind of eh.
Thanks! I sooo needed that ...
Also had to tell you that I (finally!) bought a couple of your books. Now that I'm in the country and all. And I might not sleep tonight so I can finish.
Mommy J-- I had no idea the first time one of my kids said it- MORP is a girl ask guy dance- low key and causual kind of like Sadie Hawkins (did you have them? we didn't and I didn't know what they were either) It is usually held in the spring after Prom and is actually PROM spelled backwards.
As I said, we didn't have these girl ask guy dances in NM. We had Homecoming and Prom and that was pretty much it other than the informal stomps after a football or basketball game.
I still do not get day dates the day of a big formal. I like having the whole day to get your hair and nails done. And had never even heard of the elaborate ways to ask people out until my kids started doing it and told me that that is they way it is done here. Go figure. In NM the guy just stopped by your locker during class change and asked. And then you answered. Right there on the spot. Imagine that.
But if you want to see a cute Prom invitation go here- http://sandrasdance.blogspot.com/2009/03/easy-as-1-2-3.html
The only thing I remember about Prom or other dances is that I could never afford to buy a dress. It was either a hand-me-down, something I had to sew, or something rented. I guess it bugged me enough to still remember it more than 20 years later :-)
Man! I'm exhausted just hearing about all that work. I remember those elaborate high school dances. Ugh.
Sounds like you had a great time though- and your parents were AWESOME to go through all of that.
That is seriously funny. Emptying and refilling those eggs must have been a pain. But I always loved thinking up the creative methods. It wasn't a big thing to do out east though. So you would get weird looks from some people.
Very fun. I was always dead boring in the invitation department. Too lazy, I guess. Or maybe just too Californian. All that good clean fun is a Utah thing. ;)
Oh my Gosh, how funny is that. I always thought that whole "how to ask someone out on a date" thing got pretty elaborate. Why can't (like in MY day) you just call them up and say, hey, do ya wanna go to the dance with mre or not??
Would have saved the poor Polish lady a heart attack(tee,hee)
Probably won't be able to check back in with you unti September after my move and getting HIGH SPEED, crap, I will miss my blogger friends in the meantime.
Thanks for reviving the great memory! For some reason, those guys looked at me like I was some kind of freak...
Oh how fun! I had a couple of elaborate ask outs too. I also had one guy who I really really wanted to go with not answer me until the day before the dance. I assumed he'd say yes, so I bought the tickets the dress, the stupid flower to pin on his stupid suit. He said no. The. Day. Before. The Dance. I'm still cranky about that. And my pride still stings. I took my best guy friend instead so though it wasn't romantic like I'd wanted, it was a blast--which is likely better.
Ok, so to clarify just a bit...the date was a riot after we took my date home!! Paul and Dan were great, but my date actually told me he was bored. Let's see if you are still as bored when we drop you home at 9:30 buddy! Fun bolg dear girl. I had forgotten all about the eggs. :)
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