Middle School Debauchery

The other day I had my music library on shuffle when all of the sudden 1990 came blasting out.  Yep folks, I'm talking a little Poison.  I'm talking a little "Something to Believe In."  I'm talking Brett Michaels pre-weave, height of hair bands, tight pants and one of the best power ballads of all time - and yes, even better than that ridiculous "Open Arms" song by Journey.

So, there I stood, in front of an almost emptied dishwasher, immediately transported back to sixth grade when each month our school would hold a dance, that basically entailed three things: 1. Power Ballads upon Power Ballads 2. A lot of tight swaying back and forth in small circles with the love of your sixth to eighth grade life.  And 3.  Either your first kiss, the beginning of your mastering the kiss or a full on make out.

I lived for these dances.  For two hours the gym was transformed into a dark abyss of dancing and adolescence debauchery and I loved being in the middle of it.  Some time after my third dance, my boyfriend and soul mate, decided he was going to take our American kissing to France, and as they say, "Boom went the dynamite."  Immediately, I was sought out for advice on how to go about the tango of tongues, sixth graders whispered things like, "She's a real woman," and "Wow, she is so brave," as I did my best running man (look it up kids) and Kid N' Play (again, look it up.)

Some time around seventh grade a letter was sent home from the PTA informing parents that kids were getting out of control at these dances. I remember my mom sliding the letter towards me, while asking, "You know anything about this?"  Did I know anything about the abnormally tall seventh grader pressuring kids of all ages to kiss in front of hundreds of their fellow middle schoolers?  Um, maybe.  Was it a miracle that this abnormally tall seventh grader, with teeth going every direction, was actually being kissed at all at these dances?  Absolutely.  Was I going to tell my mom that this letter was actually inspired and directed towards me?  No.  Will I stop with the questions?  Okay.

The last and strangest part of these dances was that fact that a teacher, named Ms. Schmidt, used to walk around taking pictures of kids making out.  She would then post the pictures, no not on Facebook, but on a billboard in the hallway.  Then every Monday a crowd would form around the billboard to see if they had made the "wall of shame."  Fortunately, I was never caught, but that didn't stop me from fasting and praying during every Parent/Teacher Night that Ms. Schmidt didn't pull out some hidden gems for my parents to see.
For some reason at the time I didn't think this was strange, but now almost 23 years later, I find myself wondering what in the beep was wrong with this lady.  In her house is there a wall of hundreds of pictures of middle schoolers making out that, while stroking her twenty cats, she sits in front of and admires?  Honestly, how was this woman not fired?

Before I close I would like to report that I got my act together in high school and managed to not get pregnant.  I know, you were all thinking I was headed down that path - I'm sure Ms. Schmidt has the evidence to prove it.

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