It was Senior Year, 1985, the City School Swimming Carnival on a Saturday afternoon in March.
Henry and I weren't in the stands having to do the compulsory cheering because he was on the swim team (50 meter and 100 meter breaststroke) and I was the third reserve for the freestyle relay team which meant I got to wear a the swim team shirt and had to be prepared in case three members of the relay team where all in horrifying accidents on the day.
We were wondering around the top deck of the pool when Henry spied these two girls leaning on the railing, looking down at the competition.
"Phil, we've got to meet these girls."
"Henry, now's not the time. You're racing in twenty minutes."
"No, now. You take the blonde one."
"Mate, they are both blonde."
"Ok, the shorter one."
I think they are the same height.
.... and then it clicked in our minds.
"TWINS"
So I agreed to run one of the twins and allow him a shot at the other.
If I remember correctly, my conversation went something like this...
"Hi, what race is on?"
"200 individual medley"
" I can't stand the IM, who can swim butterfly without drowning?"
"My boyfriend, he's the one winning"
"Oh well good for him"
"He's used to it. Academic list, captain of the swim team, Cricket First XI etc. Are you swimming later?", she asked while looking at my shirt.
"No the team bus failed to catch fire, so my services are not required"
"Reserve huh?"
"Yep"...... and I've now run out of things to say.
In the meantime, Henry and made other twin (Chris) laughter rauciously, got her telephone number and had organised a date for later that night.
Henry motioned for us to leave, he had to get ready to swim.
"Got to go, so nice meeting you"
(unintelligable noise)
The date Henry had organised was a little weird. The twins were going to see an amateur producation of Gilbert and Sullivan's of The Mikado and had spare tickets. Since Henry was going, an extra body was needed so Michaela wouldn't be a third wheel.
Musical theatre is never a good option for a social occasion especially for the third whell on a quazi-blind date.
Walking into the theatre was torture. Henry and Chris were chatting flirtatiously and lots of descrete touching of each other. He put his hand on her back to steer her through the crowd. She touched his arm while laughing at a joke.
All this may seem like little kid stuff to you but we grew up in the last vestiges of the old school, private college, Catholic system. Guilt was fed to us with breakfast.
I hadn't shared a classroom with a girl since I was nine and stuck in boarding school had maybe two opportunites a term to even converse with member of the female species.
Our knowledge of dating was limited and mutated. A girl touching your arm was almost sex!!
Michaela however ignored me while I continued to try to force any form of conversation. Despite my pathetic attempts, I was starting to like her. Yes she was hot and yes she was ignoring me but I noticed her bending the straw of her soda into a giraffe.
There was a spark behind the indifference of her eyes.
...and she had a boyfriend, the class captain, most likely to succed, yuppie in training, golden boy in the city.
I was Phil - B student, reserve swim team, B grade rugby, A grade debating (which didn't win you any kudos back then).
I was Nanki-Poo to her Yum Yum.
Assigned out seats - Micheala, Chris, Henry and Me - my wingman duties were at an end. I was stuck out in right field, so I sat back and watched the production - initally despondant.
Three little maids from school are we,
Pert as a school-girl well can be,
Filled to the brim with girlish glee
Three little maids from school!
... and I started to smile.
- Three little maids who, all unwary,
- Come from a ladies' seminary,
- Freed from its genius tutelary
- Three little maids from school!
- Three little maids from school! (Three Little Maids)
.... and I started to chuckle, loudly.
I looked over to see if the others were enjoying this as much as me and there I saw Michaela looking directly at me. She was watching me laugh.
- I think you ought to recollect
- You cannot show too much respect
- Towards the highly titled few;
- But nobody does, and why should you? (So Please You Sir, With Much Regret)
I looked over and she was laughing and looking back.
I grinned and stuck out my tongue at her.
She made a goofy face back at me.
Were you not to Ko-Ko plighted,
I would say in tender tone,
"Loved one, let us be united--
Let us be each other's own!
I would merge all rank and station,
Worldly sneers are nought to us,
And, to mark my admiration,
I would kiss you fondly thus-- (Were You Not KoKo Plighted)
She rolled up her program into a telescope and pointed it at the stage and then at me and for the rest of the performance we proceed to have an entire conversation without saying a word.
- If that is so,
- Sing derry down derry!
- It's evident, very,
- Our tastes are one.
- Away we'll go,
- And merrily marry,
- Nor tardily tarry,
- Till day is done! (There Is Beauty in the Bellow of the Blast)
The musical ended. We walked outside without saying a word and behind her parents car - she kissed me.
Michaela became my first actual girlfriend. Henry dated Chris for two months but we were together for a year.
She dragged me along to art galleries - she was an art major hence the straw animals - and I read books to her.
We were expelled from a school dance for rolling around the floor to Madonna's "Burning Up".
She taught me about relationships. (lucky for me she wasn't Catholic!).
We went through all those senior year rituals together - Senior Formal (Prom), Rugby Saturday (Homecoming - where I scored a try against her exboyfriends team hee hee) and Schoolies (Spring Break).
It ended the way many young relationships do. We went in different directions. She wasn't accepted into art college (they had 5 places for the whole state - she was number 7) and started working but I was going college and slowly we ran out of things in common until I passively/aggresively broke up with her.
She, of course, is married now with children and living in a different city but I run into Chris occasionally when I'm back in Brisbane.
When I remember back to that time, I don't think of her as the one that got away but the Me that go away. All that excitment, zest and tongue poking, she brought out in me slowly withered away and died away for many years.
I've now got a lot of it back (20 years later) but I don't see it in the women I meet, in Asia or back home.
I don't need much out of life. Food, shelter, a library card but woman who knows how to roll a program into a telescope would be nice but it seems it will not do.
I'm not the boy I used to see but am I the man I want to be?
Young man, despair,
Likewise go to,
Yum-Yum the fair
You must not woo.
It will not do:
I'm sorry for you (Young Man Despair)
