Field Trip

Today, on the way to work, I passed a school bus full of middle school or high school students. They were going on a field trip, and I always wave and smile at school buses that look like they are field-tripping. Let me explain.

When I was in eighth grade, I went on a field trip to Tybee Island – to view the lighthouse. I think it was to give the teachers a break. Perhaps the students a break also. Anyway, we all piled in the bus, and I don't know if you can remember field trips, but for me, the worse part of field trips was dreading having a seat in an "uncool" part of the bus. Now, for me, I did not want to be in the ultra-cool part of the bus, for I did not want to be in the lower quartile of coolness, which I would have almost certainly have been. But I just did not want to be in a boring part of the bus.

Anyway, on this trip to Tybee Island, I sat in a nice area, having guys behind me, my girlfriend beside me, and other good friends in front of me. You see, I did not have to turn around to chat, which added to the experience.

I do not remember the conversation; what I remember is that the guys behind me, at some point, were waving at some woman in a car below. She was flirting, and they completely ate this up. Here I was, a few feet from these boys, and they were flirting with a woman in a car they had no chance with. Ever.

So since I have graduated from high school onward, I have wanted to be that woman in the car. I have innocently flirted with boys in buses ever since.

So here I sat, this morning, earlier than I remember field trips, waving and smiling at the boys. And they always hoot and holler back. Always. Not sure if they are doing this for my benefit or because they are with their peers, but you know, it really doesn't matter. For this is a rite of spring, Le Sacre du printemps. And I am not talking about the Igor Stravinsky composition.