A sympathetic teacher

I met my first boyfriend when I was working at a fast food store not far from where I lived. My high school was an all-girls school, so I was glad to at least have part-time job where I could socialize with boys a bit. But I hadn’t really imagined getting a boyfriend out of it.

He had bright red hair and worked in the kitchen while I served the customers. We used to joke around a bit, but it wasn’t until a mutual friend called me and told me he liked me that I understood we were becoming boyfriend and girlfriend. He was a couple of years older than me and I didn’t mind showing off the fact to my school friends that I had a boyfriend and most of them didn’t. I was also quite proud when he picked me up from school a couple of times, especially when my favorite drama teacher saw him do it.

It was pretty short-lived, though. He was a nice enough guy, and he probably thought me a nice enough girl too, but both of us seemed to be interested in other things. After all, we were teenagers, and there’s a lot to life at that time. But I was still a little sad when we broke up.

Somebody told that favorite drama teacher of mine that I’d just split up with my boyfriend. And she knew me well enough to know some of my favorite music of the moment. I was going through a big Talking Heads phase, and the next day in drama class, I walked into the room and heard the Stop Making Sense album playing. I smiled, and my teacher told me she’d put it on to cheer me up. By the time it got to Psycho Killer, we were singing along together.