It was late August 1992 and I was hurriedly dressing, mostly primping, awaiting Raven and Joey’s arrival as it was Monday night and Vagabond, the hottest weekly traveling party, was at the 2-4 Club tonight, a club usually reserved for after hours gym queens and their designer drugs. Tonight was going to be special as Miss Diane had promised to stir things up with the cutest new boy at the club, Tommy. All I knew about him was his long grungy hair, sexy body and gorgeous green eyes. Miss Diane said she gave him my number. I frantically blew dry my hair, applying pomade as it gave my curls more body in this terrible, humid heat. As I was lacing up my psychedelic, hologrammed Doc Marten boot, I heard the phone ring. Damn! I had no idea who it was and I wasn’t expecting a call. You see, once upon a time, in an age long before smart phones, you had to answer your landline to see who was calling. Imagine that!
I reached for the phone. It
was Zita reminding me that Matt was out of town and the Vagabond King &
Queen Contest was in a few weeks, so we needed to figure out our outfits. I
hung up the phone and immediately felt sad. It had been three weeks since Tommy
got my number and he still hadn’t called.
Just then, Raven pulled up the driveway honking
her horn just as the phone rang once more. I didn’t want to answer at all, but
I still hoped it might be him. I leapt for the phone and anxiously barked,
“Hello?” Again, I dreamily imagined Tommy on the other end of the line, asking
if I was going out tonight, or better yet, asking me on a date! “Hello? Who is
it??” Silence followed. Finally, I nearly hung up, when I heard, “sorry! Must
be a bad connection….you going out tonight?? It’s Tommy!” My face flushed with
heat as I knew it was going to be an outstanding night. Good going, Stranger!