It seems that for most coming of age novels set in the 90’s, two historic events always occur. The first event is the suicide of Kurt Cobain. His death was a strong blow to many young adults of the time and one could even say his death killed the grunge movement in music. The other historic event may not be one that should be broadcasted on the news and probably won’t bring many to tears. However, to the person experiencing the event, it is very important in deed.

 

Of course I am talking about getting de-virginized at the Rocky Horror Picture Show. For those of you who have never gone to see the show “live” then you are in for a big disappointment. But for those of you who know what I mean read along and laugh with me as I recall my first time at the show.

 

Now, I did have an older sister, so I knew a bit about the show and the crowd it draws. I knew the songs and I was doing the Time Warp before I was walking (true story). In high school, I remembered my friend Shelia (total fake name) and I would either watch the Rocky Horror Picture Show or some Monty Python movie (most likely The Meaning of Life). So, I was definitely familiar with the show and didn’t really understand the appeal of going to see Rocky live every weekend. I thought it was dumb.

 

Well, let me set the stage for you. It is a beautiful summer day and my mom has been dead for about three months. My dog (who was really her dog, but looked like me. He had a bad wavy perm like me and a white streak in the middle of his head just like me, but I digress) has taken a turn for the worse. He looks like he is knocking on death’s door and death is just wiping his hands before he opens the door. So, here I am carrying my about to die dog in my arms. Well, when death was done wiping his hands (he must have been cleaning a sink full of greasy dishes), he took my dog in for a nice cup of tea and a biscuit. My dog literally died in my arms. All I could think was, “are you serious?” I just watched my mother die like three months ago and now my dog is dead? Talk about some serious bullshit.

 

But have no fear; I had the most sensitive boyfriend in the world. He was always so sweet and loving. He would hold me all the time and let me just cry in his arms. Then I woke up and looked at my real boyfriend (okay, he wasn’t that bad…). So, I call up Brad (again, total fake name) and tell him my dog just died in my arms. He says he knows just what will cheer me up. He will take me to a movie.

 

Not just any movie, but the Rocky Horror Picture Show. Every girl reading this, try to stop from swooning. I know, you are thinking how could I let that guy go, right?

 

I tell him I’m not really in the mood to see a film I have seen like twenty millions times already and my dog just died…in my arms. So really, I didn’t want to be around people. However, he swore it would be a great time and all his friends were already going and it will help get my mind off of things.

 

I go because I am a dumb girl who can’t put her foot down. But in a silent protest, I wear a Gettysburg College sweatshirt and some shorts. I wasn’t getting dressed up for something I didn’t even want to go to in the first place.

 

Then we get there and I hear that because it is my first time at the show, I have to get devirginized. I look at the person telling me this (some freak in all black), I look at my boyfriend (who was in pigtails, make-up and totally un-matching clothes) and I just shake my head and think “Awesome”.

 

I don’t know what tipped them off that I wasn’t really into this whole thing that night. It might have been when they marked my handed with a giant yellow “V” I looked at the guy like I was going to cut him. But rules are rules and up on stage I went…attitude and all.

 

They didn’t make me do anything crazy. Maybe I shook my butt a few times, but I really don’t remember my first time. I just remember being pissed as hell and thinking my dog just died and I am on stage…why?

 

In the proceeding months, we continued going to see the show. I threw my share of toast and shot water from a water gun. I asked the man on the screen where was his neck and danced the time warp in a dark theatre.

 

I can’t remember why we stopped going. Perhaps we grew out of it, or maybe I just never grew into it. I’m pretty sure Brad went a few times without me. I also think there was this blonde guy who was hitting on me (and I also think that was the last time I went to the show…interesting).

 

But it doesn’t matter. I am glad that I paid my dues and got my Rocky stamp on the punch card of growing up. 

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