Friday, September 07, 2007

Bonus story #1

Yeah, here's the first story from "Michael and Allanna History 101: Before they were Michael and Allanna"

The infamous Wink-Em Game:

For FHE (Family Home Evening -- It's really hard to explain. If you don't know what it is, comment. I'll write it up later. I'm tired now.), the University First ward combined their groups into a big game of Wink-Em, which is a pioneer-era game.

The main point of WInk-Em, is that you have a circle of chairs ... like in musical chairs ... but the chairs face the inside of the circle. Girls sit in the chairs. Guys stand behind the chair of their (girl) partner, looking down at her, their hands clasped behind their backs. One guy stands behind an empty chair. The girls watch him.

The guy behind the empty chair winks at a girl. Her goal is to get out of her chair and reach the partnerless guy before her partner can stop her (by putting his hands on her shoulders, preventing her from leaving her chair). Her partner's goal is to stop her, like I mentioned in the preceding parenthetical phrase. If the girl evades her partner and makes it to the empty chair, the winking guy becomes her new partner and her old partner goes back to the now-empty chair to wink. If she doesn't make it, the partnerless guy has to try winking at someone else.

OKAY. I hope that makes sense.
This is happening back when A and I were seeing each other. People decided to switch things up by having the BOYS be sitting in the chairs and the girls behind them.
Of course, A and I are partnering.

Well, he's kinda popular. He's a fun guy. And someone winks at him. So I miss his shoulders and grab on to the bottom of his coat.
(Aside: I don't like sports because I'm kinda competitive. I hate losing. and I'm not very good at sports ... so I avoid them so I won't lose.)

There I am, hanging on the back of his coat. I'm dragged to where I'm on the back of the metal fold-up chair, caught on my hips, and then I'm chair-surfing though the circle. The chair falls and I'm dragged along for a foot or two. As A is about to sit down, he notices that I'm there, panting, on the ground, my white-knuckled fingers still holding his jacket.

"Oh, you're still there?"

I nod.

I won that round.

And then we repeated for a while. Finally, they switched to the more traditional girls-in-the-chairs ... I keep A as my partner.

Eventually, the game is called. I'm rather beat up and trying SO. HARD. not to cry.
All I really want at this point is a bottle of aspirin and a dark corner in which to lick my many, many wounds.

A couple guys came up to me and told me that I should play lineman in football. I try to retain my composure and thank them.

After my bruises bloom, I have goose eggs on each calf and, seriously, purple Nike swooshes on my hips. I enjoy pulling part of my jeans' waistline down past my high-rise panties to show my friends at school. As I'm showing Jenny and Chauna my battle scars, a guy across the room shouts, "How'd you do THAT?!?"
And then I'm embarassed that he's seen part of my panties. Oh, I'm a slut!

A few months later, I go to an Institute class (Not Brother Kirby's) and I run into a couple from that college town. They remember me. Because of that game of Wink-Em.
I die a little.

What brings this around to Michael, you may ask? I'll tell you.

After we were engaged (or was it after we were married?), we were talking about that game. He was there. This was before I knew him at all.

He remembers that game. And being impressed that I was that ... DETERMINED.
He thought it was cool.

Thanks be. Or else I'd have had to die a little bit more.

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