VIDEO SHOP GUY: A small independent video shop opened up across the road from my house, owned by a nice 30 something man and his mum. I was about seven when it opened, and fifteen when it shut down, and I spent a lot of time in there chatting to the owners, eating the toffees they kept in a bowl on the counter and choosing between My Girl 2 (first one was too sad to watch too many times, but in the second one she kisses a cute guy – her sort of cousin actually - and gets her ears pierced, so happy days), Now and Then, Blank Cheque or Monkey Business, which were the four films I rotated for pretty much all of my early adolescence, to the point where when the shop had to close down, the lady saved me Blank Cheque and Monkey Business as a present. Which was nice, although pointless because they were on VHS and it was 2004. But it was the thought. ANYWAY.
When I was maybe eleven they hired a young guy to help out on weekend. I thought Young Video Shop Guy was so cool. He wore black turtlenecks, had glasses and floppy hair, studied Philosophy and had seen all the scary movies. Also, he was nineteen, which somehow in my 11 year old mind seemed completely viable, and not like he was twenty or something out of reach. I’d walk in and loudly announce my presence, then spend half an hour flopping around the tiny shop, sighing and picking up and replacing video boxes until he’d say “Do you want me to help you pick?” and come out from behind the counter and my cheeks would flush and I’d half wish I wasn’t there at all, the embarrassment was so intense. One night we had a conversation at the counter that went like this
ME: So what are you going to do tonight?
HIM: Well, I finish work at eleven.
ME: Eleven! [I didn’t even know it stayed open that late. That seemed so late!] That’s so late! So you can’t do anything then.
HIM: Hmmm, I’ll probably go to a friend’s house.
ME: A friend’s house at ELEVEN?
Could he have been cooler? No. Nineteen, turtlenecks, and going to a friend’s houses at almost midnight? I pretty much moved into the shop after that. Needless to say, nothing ever happened, and eventually Video Shop Guy faded into a distant memory.
Years later, long after the shop had shut down, I saw him at a café in town, sitting with his knees knocking under the table with the owner guy from the video shop.
SUMMER CAMP TEACHER: Summer Camp guy who worked at the summer school I attended for ‘gifted children’ (hmmm) was kind and lots of fun. He’s the only one of my infatuations whose name I actually knew and who I spent time with. He was 19 and I was 15, but because he was in a position of authority he seemed years older and more mature then I felt. One day when he appeared to be in a bad mood, or maybe he was just tired, I wrote a letter on a torn piece of paper on my way to class that said “Cheer up you grumpy monkey! From your secret admirer!” and signed it with hearts. Then I raced down the boy’s corridor and slipped it under his door. This seemed like the best idea I had ever had right until the page was under the door. The very second it was too late, I realized how cringey it was. I was kicking myself and couldn’t concentrate on anything for the rest of the day. Grumpy monkey? What in the name of fuck had I been thinking? I had to get it back! I spent all of class trying to construct increasingly elaborate and desperate plans to retrieve it before he returned to his room, but it was futile. I just had to hope he wouldn’t guess who it was.
Turns out he didn’t need to guess. One of the boys on the floor had seen me in the boy’s corridor, which was out of bounds to girls, and had told on me. I was caught. Luckily for me, I think the poor teacher was more awkward about it then I was and never mentioned it, although his flat mate called me monkey for the next two weeks.
Recently, a friend of mine sent me a link to said Summer Camp Teacher’s Facebook page. My first thought was, wow, he’s as hot as ever! And second was, oh, he’s kissing a boy. Clearly I was terrible at noticing sexuality as a young teenager.
CORNER SHOP GUY: I was 16 and way too old for the way I acted around him. He was always friendly and nice to me, even though it was totally obvious I was into him. I day dreamed about him constantly, and based on very vague evidence decided his name was Paul. I once visited the newsagents a record of four times in the space of an evening. Each time I had more make up and was buying something more unnecessary. The fourth time, urged on by my friend, I changed my outfit entirely, hobbling across the road in tight jeans, knee-high four inch boots and a plunging top to a buy a pack of cookies in almost entirely 20 cent coins. His co worker, a small young woman who was always rude, said “Oh, look who’s back. What a surprise.” ‘Paul’ told her to watch her mouth, and was extra nice to me as I paid. He loves me too, I thought gleefully, hobbling back across the road.
I thought he might have the idea I was in University so I occasionally made references to “working for my course” and “being challenged by my schedule” and never went in in my school uniform. My cover was blown when I got on the bus one day going to school, mouth full with an entire chocolate doughnut I’d had to stuff in my mouth while I looked for change, and there he was on the same bus. I almost fell down the stairs in shock as he nodded at me. My cover was blown! In retrospect, it’s clear he was never convinced. After all, he once saw me actually get on my hands and knees to hide behind a bin in an attempt at avoiding a group of spotty boys in their school uniforms (another story), not a hobby shared by most college students.
In my first year of actually being in college, sitting on a doorstep at three in the morning with my first boyfriend, a guy stopped to ask for a lighter. As we made eye contact, we both had the instant spark of recognition. “It’s great to see you again,” Corner Shop Guy said, before heading off and even then I still cringed to think of myself in my heels and padded bra, buying cookies, so painfully trying.
I know this sounds pretty insulting, but I love how shallow you made yourself sound. It made it seem like you had gotten over it and the very thoughts of your first fancies were, although embarrassing, very amusing as well! So I definitely liked that.
I loved it. You rock!
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