My Real Memoir
Help! I need somebody
Help! Not just anybody
Help! You know I need someone
I was fourteen and “girl crazy.” From my early abandonment of the He Man Woman Haters Club to discovering how much I liked smart-cute girls to my first cartoonish kiss, I’d hankered for companionship of the female persuasion. I wanted someone to love me do and maybe even please please me when I came home from a hard day’s night, although what that entailed exactly was pretty unclear.
I wanted to kiss girls. A lot. But I wasn’t sure how. I was pretty sure pursing your lips like you’re whistling wasn’t the pinnacle of ecstasy, but like guitar playing, I wasn’t very good at it. At an 8th Grade graduation party, I’d played spin-the-bottle with an array of fellow whistle-kissers until one aggressive girl wiggled her tongue around in my mouth. It felt like I was kissing a lizard, so I’d made a mental note: No tongues!
That fall, I’d been in my first high school play with two mondo-pretty older girls, dark-haired Faye and ravishingly blonde Barbara who’d made me their “pet.” I’d loved the arm-squeezes and head-pats, but figured the petting was over when the show ended.
It wasn’t.
A short time later, our Drama teacher Mr. Baker took us on a field trip to L.A. to see to the Broadway musical 110° in the Shade. On the way home, I sat in the back of the bus with Faye and Barbara. In teasing competition, they decided to see who could excite their pet Mitch the most (nothing below the belt). First they planted lipstick kisses all over my face, then they nibbled on my neck, and finally they began sensuously kissing my ears—with their tongues. I revised my mental note: OK, so, tongues are allowed in ears. They stopped there, but that was more than enough. I never wanted that bus ride to end. Faye later wrote in my yearbook, “You are my Sweetie! Remember 110° in the Shade?”
Oh, yes, I remembered.
Certain I’d advanced to the next level, I auditioned for the TV series The Dating Game, and to my delight they called that night! “We’d like to do a special Valentine’s Day edition, and need you to supply us with the names and numbers of three bachelorettes you’ve dated in the past. The angle is they won’t know it’s you until you pick the winner!”
“Bitchin’!” I replied. “Only…can they just be girls I’d like to go out with?”
“No, they need to be girls you’ve actually dated. Why do you ask?”
“Well, um…I’ve never actually been on a date.”
“What? How old are you?”
“Almost fifteen.”
Dial tone.
A few months later The Beatles song “Help!” hit the air waves and instantly became…
My theme song.
My Real Memoir is a series. To read the next one, click here.
Mitch Teemley 
LOL!
LikeLiked by 1 person
That’s great. Happy Valentine’s Day, Mitch. God bless!
LikeLiked by 1 person
You too, Nancy!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Lol. A ladies’ man in the making?! Lol.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Yup. ;>)
LikeLiked by 1 person
Oooo, that dial tone… ouch.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Yep. I knew the minute they asked for names and numbers the gig was up, Rebecca — I didn’t actually have any girls’ phone numbers.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Pingback: In Desperate Need of Focus | Mitch Teemley
Such a great story, Mitch! Do you ever wonder what happened to Faye and Barbara?
LikeLiked by 1 person
Yes! I looked for them on Facebook to no avail. But not every boomer is on Facebook (only most ;>), and of course many use their married names.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Old surfer lingo when I was one living in Hermosa. ‘Bitchin’ it dates us Mitch.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Yep. ;>) That was my go-to word back then, Norman.
LikeLike
imagine 135° in the shade
LikeLiked by 1 person
Rudy, I’d rather not!
That would be hot, hot, hot! ;>)
LikeLike
360 o 385
LikeLiked by 1 person
Ah, the dreams of youth . . .
LikeLiked by 2 people
Mitch, this is such a great story, thanks for sharing. Happy Valentine’s day
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you, you too, Mary Anne.
LikeLike
Your awkward, fun, exciting experiences with blossoming young ladies are certainly entertaining to read about, Mitch!
LikeLiked by 1 person
The Dating Game! Time for a fake ID Mitch.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Seemed I didn’t need it, Max. I was regularly mistaken for older than I was.
LikeLiked by 1 person
With a start like that, I would think you would have been material for the Navy! I remember one young sailor (he looked 16) who was in trouble at our base in Florida. Someone he met in town was a bit younger than our young-looking sailor – and he needed to have his overseas orders processed rather quickly.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Uh-oh.
LikeLike
Your awkward, fun, exciting experiences with blossoming young ladies are certainly entertaining to read about, Mitch!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thanks, Max!
LikeLike
After a few years of playing the game “Paranoia”, their bastardized version of this song, “Kelp!” (“Paranoia” takes place mostly underground after an unspecified catastrophe, and most of their food consists of kelp derivatives), is the one I have stuck in my head. It starts like this:
Kelp! to feed my body.
Kelp! not just algae, buddy!
Kelp! don’t even need a bun.
KELP!
LikeLiked by 1 person
;>)
LikeLike
The one and only Mitch!
LikeLiked by 1 person
These are fabulous photos! Thanks for sharing them.
LikeLiked by 1 person
What a great story!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thanks, Jennie.
LikeLiked by 1 person
You’re welcome!
LikeLiked by 1 person
I auditioned in 19$& lol and got a call back . Fortunately I didn’t get the second callback. The thought of that being out there somewhere for me to find …. Lol. At least I WAS 18 lol
LikeLiked by 1 person
😂
LikeLike
Pingback: Bringing My Darkness Into the Light | Mitch Teemley