Sacagawea dollars

It's storytime! For some reason, I woke up this morning remembering this incident and took it as a sign that I should blog about it. So here you go.

Once upon a time when I was 11, I was taking ballroom dance lessons with a neighbor boy and the grand showcase was coming up. After a dress rehearsal at Logan High School in early June, I decided to wait for my dad under the shade of a tree across the street from the school for easier pickup.

As I sat daydreaming under the tree in my sparkly costume and sunglasses, I heard a voice. "Hey, pretty girl!" I looked up and there stood two boys who couldn't have been more than 8 years old. "Hey pretty girl, will you kiss us?"

I really didn't want to deal with them. My sunglasses gave me an idea. I began to do some sign language, hoping that they would think that I couldn't hear them so they would give up. (I must have been hoping the sunglasses would give an overall Helen Keller impression.)

"What are you doing?" they asked. I sighed as I gave up the charade, pulled off my sunglasses, and asked, "What do you want?"

"Will you kiss us?" I suppose it was the sequiny silver jacket I was wearing that had allured them.

"Uh . . ." I responded.

"We'll pay you!" one of them said, and they ran home. I stayed under the tree, figuring that either my dad would pick me up or they would forget and turn on Cartoon Network.

No such luck. Within a few minutes they were scurrying back. I rolled my eyes.

"We'll give you all of these if you kiss us!" There in their hands were 20 or so Sacagaewea dollars. I had never seen so much gold in my life. Where on earth had they gotten it?

"Um, I need . . . you need to pay me more if you want me to kiss you," I choked out.

"Okay!" they responded and went to get more, still holding all the coins. As soon as they were out of sight, I hurried back across the street into the high school. I watched through the glass doors as they came back to the tree, looked around for me, shrugged, and then went back home. I heaved a sigh of relief but still didn't dare to go outside again til I saw my dad's car.

I wonder what became of those boys.