Sharing Sunday: Seeing Susan
Happy Sharing Sunday! Today is the day that I share something from my writer’s notebook. But this week I’m cheating.
A few weeks ago Lindsey shared a piece she developed from her writer’s notebook, “Trying to be Cool.” It was an awesome piece that she even read at open mic night!
Her piece was so much like a piece my brother wrote last year in seventh grade grammar class I couldn’t help but share!
Assignment: Write a short story that produces a feeling…without directly mentioning the feeling.
Approach: I wanted to do something misleading. So it seems all hopeful until the end. I wanted to make a relatable character and he drew inspiration from the overall assumption that guys are supposed to be athletic. I also wanted to work on building anticipation.
I am six foot five, captain of every sports team, and have had dozens of girlfriends…. in my dreams. In reality I am five foot even, leader of every nerd event possible, and have never gone on a date. Now you can imagine my surprise when Susan Smith, the cutest girl in the eleventh grade, asked a pale, weak guy like Robert Smith, me, out on a date. I was to meet her at Fonzie’s, the pizza place, at exactly six tonight. I was so excited that the rest of school felt like a fallacy.
I could think solely about seeing Susan until I got home. Unfortunately, there was a problem: I live on the other side of town with no car, bike, or even a bus. Also, I get home at four which means I’ll have to start walking scratch that, sprinting, at five.
I got home, sputtered my plans to my parents, and whizzed off to the bathroom. I took a super-speed shower and spent ten minutes finding something substantially clean to wear. I was feeling pretty good about myself and clambered toward the door when who should stop me, but my sister. She took a single glance at my face and found the whole story in my anxious eyes, nervous smile, and eager movements. She pushed me like a Nazi, demanding that I march upstairs and take a second try at the shower.
After showering six times and trying all conceivable combinations in my closet, she was satisfied. I screeched out the door looking at my watch, 4:52. I still had some time so I decided to get flowers for my date. I charged into the flower store. Wouldn’t you know it? They were out of flowers! I know, right? It was 5:05; I still had some time so I dashed into another shop. They had the perfect bouquet of brilliant, deep-red, brilliant roses, exactly the thing for a charming night like this. I sprinted to the checkout stand where five more people waited.
At 5:25 it was finally my turn to checkout. I reached into my pocket and pulled out… nothing. My wallet was at home. Of course I would have to pay for the meal, so I dropped the bouquet as I was being chased from the store and sped away like a maniac through the streets, muttering apologies as I collided with passerbies. I arrived at my house, ripped apart my clothes trying to find my wallet, and dashed out to retrace my steps.
By the time I had retraced my steps, it was 5:45 and it was 20 minutes to get to Fonzie’s. I didn’t care. I just went faster because I wanted to see Susan.
I was there at 5:57! I reserved our table and went to the bathroom. Man, I looked like a mess. I straightened myself up, pulled a lost rose from out of my clothing, and went to wait for Susan Smith. Six sharp: no Susan. Seven o’ two: no Susan. Eight fifteen: still no Susan. At ten I finally realized, she wasn’t coming to see five feet, leader of the nerds, pale, weak me.