As a Woman Scorned

Setting: Adult Roles class

Time: 1984

Scene: At long last, the culminating event of class, the boys draw a girl classmate's name out of a hat to be his partner in the final project. The final project was pretending to be a married couple, accepting the assignment of X amount of kids, X amount of monthly income and X amount of surprise bills. We'd go to the grocery store together, maybe a used car lot and pretend to spend pretend money.

Why does this sound so exciting to an 18 year old girl? I have no idea.

As T.S. approached the hat, I silently begged prayed, "Please don't let him pick my name."

It's not that T.S. was gross, ugly, smelly or had crooked teeth. He was just T.S. He lacked tact, social graces, and sported a perpetual scowl. He was handsome enough and he played football which, on my short checklist, would have put him on the acceptable column but I had spent the past 7 years in school with him. I didn't like his temperament which precisely matched his scowl.

His girlfriend, D.D., shared his facial expression and obnoxious personality. They deserved each other.

I watched his hand dip in the hat and his eyes scanned the name. He dropped his hands to his side, looked up at the ceiling and wailed, "Not her!" I felt a combination of pity for the poor soul who was chosen to be his partner and train-wreck curiosity. Who could be so bad as to warrant THAT kind of response from someone as cantankerous as T.S.?

When the signal was given, the boys approached their new partners. Horrified and mortified, I found myself looking at the face of the one person I had begged, yes BEGGED God and the Universe to not tether me to.

I was the train wreck.

To his credit he had cleaned up the scowl and used a pleasant tone when he informed me we were partners. But nobody could have missed the reaction he had when he first saw my name. That is the scene that is etched in my cerebral cortex.

We grew up, grew older, he married D.D. who then became D.S. and I never wondered what ever happened to him. His existence just didn't cross my mind until I volunteered for the new elementary school PTA and met with Mrs. T.S. who, in a much softer voice than I remembered, called out to me and, unwittingly, I liked her.

Since that time, 7 years ago, I have exchanged many pleasantries with T.S. My husband and I even sat with them at a theater one evening when we found ourselves at the same movie. We exchange polite chit chat and speak nothing of the past.

I am a mature woman who moves on with her life. I don't cringe when I see him. We have grown up and beyond those childish impulses to vomit at the sight of one another.

Last Stake Conference T.S. was sustained as a high councilman in the stake. I gave my sustaining vote. I don't hold grudges. We are respectable beings in our communities. I have long since decided to like D.S. despite her teenage years. I would like T.S., too.

On Sunday I sat for services and scanned the pulpit for the speakers. We had a high councilman speaker that day. As he stood to give uplifting words, I saw the boy in the Izod shirt, perfectly coiffed and fluffy blond hair who, in no way, resembled this respectable, balding, middle aged man, and I heard the cry deep within my past thunder, "Not her!"

But I have moved past this episode with grace. I swallowed the vomit in my mouth. The perpetual scowl was still present but it was on my face.

Hell hath no fury...

And, yeah, I do see the irony.