The first boy I ever dated was a mistake. We met in the summer of our sophomore year.  And it was not even at school.  It so happened that he and I were separately joining the Red Cross as Youth Volunteers.  Sometimes, I admit this with shame and reluctance, but I was planning on being a doctor, and therefore, I was planning, this particular summer, my Curriculum Vitae for the review of the Schools of Medicine, starting with a great start at the Red Cross.

So, as the last school term was ending in June, I saw on the bulletin boards, the opportunity to join a Youth Committee that would involve itself in the business of the Red Cross.  I already held a job at the Public Library, as a Page, but, this volunteer position would be the first job I held that would require my performance to guarantee my position on the Committee for the following year.  This was an impressive leap for me. Where, my talents were really not required in any other job, being a part of a group of people who had to define their jobs to have a job to do, was something I saw as rewarding talent.  I was sure that I could do this job.

Now, the issue of my first boyfriend.  He had the same reasons for joining as I did.  We were the youngest in the group of people who became the first Volunteer Youth  Committee Members.  The others were also a mix of men and women, who were, also, in school, but they were mostly studying sciences at university.

We met as an official Committee once a month on Sunday.  I had to get up early, to go to a closed and locked office, and sit for an hour-and-a-half listening and joining debates on our activity and the justification of this activity.  In the winter, which was only part of my tenure for one season, we tended to not do any fund-raising work, but we concentrated our work, but we concentrated our work with the other youth volunteers, who worked during the weekends at the malls, to register blood donors and usher these people through the experience.  This was as close to an official job that I could get.  So, for the first summer, during the meetings, and our planned fund-raisers, I was busy.

My boyfriend and I met at the second official meeting.  It was the second meeting for me, but it was the first time he showed up.  We both rode our bicycles into the tiny parking lot, and, since this was before people thought of cyclists, we both rode up to the steel stair railing where we both intended to lock our bikes.  As I did not even make notice of him, he casually asked, if he could lock his bike with mine, as he forgot his lock.  Of course, since this was before the time I suspected criminals to be young and devious, I whole-heartedly agreed.  And, so, we locked our bikes together and went into the meeting.

Now, this was not how we actually became involved with each other.  We went home our separate ways at the end of the meeting.  We were not savvy enough to talk each other into dating.  And this leads me to the mistake.  About one week later, after this initial introduction, a physical confirmation of age and sex, I received a phone call.  It was the boy with the bike, and he had asked to lock it with mine.  Could he ask me on a date?

I was pleasantly surprised, and, not exactly smart enough to know that there was something illegal happening.  At leasst, not until the next meeting.  It seems, this boy called me, and several other girls who were affiliated with the Red Cross, as Youth, in different capacities.  He was able to call, in the first place, because he was able to “scam” the Receptionist into giving him the list with phone numbers.  The other girls were savvy enough and complained to the management at the office, and got an immediate response, which included a reprimand, of my first boyfriend, who was a mistake.

It was also a lucky summer and year serving at the Red Cross, as this boyfriend and I ended up dating for two years, and he ended up taking me to Prom.  This is a happy story, and, even though I like to think of myself as someone who is savvy, I really was not that lucky in dating.  I have been on more dates than is “legal” or advisable.  Now, though, I carry this experience with  me.  I carry it, because it is light and I feel grateful for being able to be part of people’s lives.  I sometimes look at this particular situation as “the one” that started it all.  I do, in this way, cherish him more than I cherish the others, as they were time and experience, again, beyond knowing what to do.  So, even though he is “technically” a “mistake,” he was probably the most real of my boyfriends.

We have no more contact with each other, and I have no more contact with any of the ones I did date.  And, as experience is, these dates become examples of life happening.  The more time there is between me now and me at a very young age, keeps increasing, and also, as time keeps increasing, I mention and look to these experiences even less.  I have become less obsessed with having lived that life!

So, I toast my glass to that life and drink champagne to enjoy the life that I have.  Cheers!