Yep...DRAMA

The words made me cringe and shrink back in revulsion; I simply didn't need drama in my life and there was nothing, literally nothing, that would change my mind. It irks me and I see no point in it, engaging in it or doing anything to prolong it - Drama is best well-avoided.

Drama class

I was fifteen years old had just changed high schools and was told I'd have to do a drama class.

"What fuckery is this," my fifteen year old self thought, (or whatever it was my fifteen year old self said on such occasions).

But despite my protestations there was no escaping it. I fronted up to the first class later that week, walked in thinking, "there is nothing on this god forsaken planet that will make me like this class"...and then I saw Miss Curtis.

Oh drama class, how I love thee

Miss Curtis was a shapely twenty five year old drama teacher, blonde, pirate smile, hips that spoke to me, lovely and kind green eyes and a voice like honey.

Yep, I thought she was spectacular. Now, I didn't know her age until later on but on that first day I guessed it quite accurately and did a quick calculation: 25-15=10. Ok...so a ten year age-gap; that's not insurmountable. When I look back, I can only admire my positivity and ambition, far-fetched thought it was.

Miss Curtis had me jumping around imitating frogs, (and a fucken mushroom on one occasion), being expressive using only body movements, spouting lines from Shakespearean plays, and even managed to convince me and three buddies to perform a KISS concert for the class as our project complete with full make up, instruments and all (I was Peter Criss, the drummer) which I'll grudgingly admit was fun. Then there was the time she was teaching mime and if you ever want to laugh your fucken ass off you only have to watch me miming; you'll die laughing (at me, not with me).

Miss Curtis made drama class the only class I wanted to go to. I was infatuated...Not with drama class, with Miss Curtis.

She knew it

I had Miss Curtis for drama class two years running and I enjoyed every second (of spending time with her).

I left school at seventeen to start my life and move into more serious things and went to see her. I was a different guy from the fifteen year old I'd been when I first met her: More confident in who I was, taller, stronger, deeper voiced and all the other things that happen over time - I was becoming an adult I suppose. I knew I was going to miss drama class seeing her. We'd had some really good chats over the two years and, though she maintained professionalism and the appropriate teacher/student relationship at all times, I felt she had somewhat of a soft spot for me. I wasn't wrong.

Of course, it went nowhere other than some kind words exchanged on that last goodbye I'd made and I left school expecting never to see her again, other than in my minds eye; knowing I'd not see her again I told her what I felt trying to be mature about it which I probably didn't manage. She was kind, understanding and pretty damned awesome about it. We had a hug (not sure if that was appropriate) and I walked out feeling like a chapter of my life was well and truly over. Whether I was ready for the next would be a matter for time (and myself) to reveal.

Drama ten years later

Ten years had changed me; twenty seven years old I was an adult who had done adult things, lived a lot of life, some of it incredibly harsh, and had learned a lot of things. I was also happily married, interestingly to someone who (thinking back now) was a lot like Miss Curtis. I didn't expect drama but one day there it was in the form of Miss Curtis.

Ok, there was no drama at all, but there was her...and she'd not changed much, still quite beautiful, and the changes that had occurred stirred those same feelings I'd had years earlier; she was quite lovely to behold. I looked and she looked obviously both trying to put a name to a familiar face and then recognition occurred.

"Miss Curtis?" It was more of a statement than a question, she looked more closely and then she smiled (and I knew it was her) and spoke my name and moved towards me.

We caught up for a coffee that day, on the happenings of the last ten years, and she told me about how cute she thought it was that I made no attempt to hide my crush on her back in school. I was a little embarrassed (thinking I had actually made an attempt) but we laughed about it and other things. I told her how much I hated the idea of drama class until the moment I'd seen her and we had a laugh about some of the dumb-ass things I'd had to do at her behest. We talked about some other things, my work, what she was doing now, my wife and life, and then it was time to go; I didn't want to.

Thinking on it later, I did that same math calculation coming to the decision that ten years (especially at the ages we were right then) was nothing at all - my parents had a bigger age gap between them - and I thought what if...then came to my senses and realised that some things need to be left in the past.

I never saw her again and that's ok. She's a small part of my life, a good memory from my school days that has brought me a smile or two over the years for various reasons including the person herself and the idiot that was me and my school boy crush on a teacher. I don't regret it though, it was part of my youth at a time when things were changing and I was becoming an independent adult. I left home at seventeen and a half years of age and never went back preferring to forge ahead and build my self and life through experience, failure and success and with some of the tools I've gained as a younger man. It worked out ok.

I had some terrible things happen to me at school but each of them taught me about human nature, myself and what I am capable of physically, emotionally and mentally.

I also had some really good and (fortunately) enduring events and memories which have become valued moments of my life. Drama class, and Miss Curtis in particular, is one of those and I'm glad for it. Looking back I'd not change a thing (except maybe I'd have made her my girlfriend) - just kidding - Nah, I'd not change it, she made two years of school and that 90 minute coffee we shared ten years later valuable memories and I'm happy to have them.