Ben's World

Managing Editor

One of the reasons so many folks lined up to get rid of the PACT tests was because it puts undue pressure on students.

I can't really weigh in on that one way or the other. I've never had to take the PACT test.

When I was in school I never really felt much pressure on tests. I knew I was smart enough to get a passing grade. Unfortunately, I wasn't smart enough to realize I should shoot for more than just a passing grade.

I felt more pressure from social situations than I did from any standardized test.

The main reason is that with a test, there is a right answer. I may not know the right answer, but at least there was an outside possibility I could figure out what is was.

In social situations, I rarely found a right answer. There was wrong or dumb. I usually hit both.

In the waning months of my senior year, everybody in my class was excited about the prom.

Everybody except for me, that is.

I don't mean to shock anybody, but I wasn't a particularly attractive teenager. I know, I grew into a not-particularly attractive adult, but eventually I learned to deal with it.

As a high school senior, I was sure of two things: no girl wanted to go out with me, and certainly nobody would go to the prom with me.

Rather than risk rejection by asking somebody to go to the prom, I decided to pretend I had no interest whatsoever in attending the prom.

"I would go but Crystal Gayle is supposed to be on Hee Haw that night," I said.

OK, so I wasn't great at making up excuses either.

A few weeks before the prom, my buddy Roger Bremer gave me a tip that one of the class's more beautiful girls had just broken up with her boyfriend, and therefore had no date for the prom.

"You should ask her," Roger said.

"Come on, she's way yonder out of my league," I said. "I'm not even sure we're in the same species. She's femaleus beautifulus, and I'm maleus dorkulus."

"I'm starting to see why you struggled through biology in the 10th grade," Roger said. "You need to ask her. She'll say 'yes;' otherwise she'll be sitting at home on prom night."

"Well, Crystal Gayle is going to be on Hee Haw," I said. "But I hardly know her. I don't think she likes me."

"She likes you," Roger said. "The other day I asked her what she thought about you and she said, 'He's all right, I guess.'"

"Wow," I said. "With such a ringing endorsement, I guess I should be picking out names for our children."

"You don't understand," Roger said. "To a girl, 'all right' means she's curious and wants to know more."

"Silly me," I said. "I thought 'all right' meant irritating but not harmful."

"What do you have to lose?" Roger asked.

"My self-esteem?" I guessed.

"Don't be silly," Roger said. "You lost that a long time ago."

So I called the girl that night. After explaining who I was, I told her I had heard she didn't have a date for the prom. I suggested she could go with me.

She paused. "I don't know," she said. "I thought about just going out with a bunch of the girls that night."

Going out with a bunch of girls? That sure beats Hee Haw.

She paused again.

"And it's kind of late," she said.

"Nonsense," I said. "It's only 5:30 p.m."

"No, I mean it's so close to the prom date," she said. "I probably couldn't find a dress at this point."

"So if you can find a dress, you'll go with me?" I asked.

"Sure," she said.

Of course, I knew she wasn't going to look for a dress. But at least I had a conditional "yes" from her.

As it turned out, Roger's date for the prom had an extra dress that would fit my perspective date.

So she had to go with me.

On prom night, I picked up my date at her house. Her parents were very friendly and welcomed me into the house.

Sometime in conversation I mentioned the name of my date's ex-boyfriend, and suddenly she and her parents were giving the kind of cold stare that usually is reserved for convicted killers.

That was an omen for the night. Her ex-boyfriend wasn't with us physically, but he was there spiritually. He was haunting my date.

There were two ways I could mess up: I could do something similar to the way her ex-boyfriend did it, or I could do something different from the way her ex-boyfriend did it.

I did both.

Of course, I messed up on my own too.

We joined Roger and his date for dinner at a fancy restaurant in Greenville. As uncultured as I still am, I was really sheltered at that point in my life. My idea of a fancy restaurant was one where you carried your food to the table on a plastic tray.

I wasn't prepared for the cost of food at this place. After my date ordered, I counted up the cost and was tempted to say, "I'll have a glass of water ... on the rocks."

I nudged Roger and asked where the bargain menu was. "You're looking at it," he said.

When our steaks came out, I was surprised at the small portions. For what they were charging, I expected to get half a cow.

"I don't suppose they'll be bringing more out later," I whispered to Rog.

When they brought the tab to me, I got out my wallet and stood up.

"Where are you going?" Roger asked.

"To find the cash register," I said.

"No, you just leave your money with the tab on the table," Roger said.

"What about my change," I asked.

"You don't get change," Roger said. "That's part of your tip."

"I had no idea I was so generous," I said.

At the prom, we mostly sat and talked. I tried to keep the conversation away from the subject of her ex-boyfriend, but somehow it always strayed back that way.

I said something about making a bad decision, and she said, "My ex-boyfriend made a lot of bad decisions."

We left early, and she said she didn't want to go to any of the after-prom parties. I agreed.

When we got to her house, she turned, looked me in the eyes and said those three words I was longing to hear:

"I'm so sorry."

I said it was all right. I lied and told her I had a wonderful time.

We spoke from time to time at school during those final few weeks. Turns out she was a really nice person who was just hurting. Somehow my bad jokes didn't help ease her pain.

All in all, things turned out for the best. I got to know a special person, I got to experience a fancy restaurant, and I got to dress in a very uncomfortable suit.

And I caught Crystal Gayle on Hee Haw later in the year when it re-ran on television.

Reach Ben Robinson at brobinson@theeasleyprogress.com or 855-0355, ext. 20.